


The Dragon and The Hound

by CMallory



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Assassination, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Dark, Dark Character, Dark Fantasy, Dark Past, Dragon Riders, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Friendship/Love, Game of Thrones References, Intimacy, Love, Oral Sex, Realistic, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Swearing, Vaginal Sex, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-03-20 02:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 86,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18983023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMallory/pseuds/CMallory
Summary: Lana's role in her organization is to understand and manipulate people, and she prides herself in that ability. When she learns the roots of her bastard heritage, she must complete her mission in Westeros before serving her half-sister, Daenerys Tageryen, in Meereen. Once in Westeros, Lana wants nothing more than to return to Meereen for Dany, certain that her role in life is to help her reclaim the throne.After Lana completes her mission, she comes across trouble, and then The Hound. When he takes her captive for the bounty on her head, she quickly learns that he is one of the few that she can manipulate.Her encounter with him will make her question everything.°°°Sandor x OCThis also will explore a new ending for Game of Thrones, which Sandor, and other characters, will have major roles to play that got swept under the rug in the last season. The story here takes place from Season 3 to Season 8.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> So, this story IS finished. Which means a lot of things should add up and make sense in the narration. There is an actual plot as well, with a START | MIDDLE | END, and Lana has her own goals and motives. It's also important to note that Lana was created for Sandor, and in that I hope she proves to be a worthy pairing for him. This romance is a slowburn one. Sandor's romance won't be out of character either. I don't like OOC, especially with someone like the Hound. I like him because he is such an ass that it eventually becomes funny, and then he became my favorite once we learn that he is not a monster and actually has a heart. 
> 
> I do not ship him with Sansa, but don’t worry, there is no Sansa bashing here. She is a part of his personal journey, along with Arya. People can love for so many different reasons, especially in a world like this, and I am pretty sure that he cares for Sansa like an uncle or guardian. Even if they were somehow a couple, they are that couple that just got together because they are dysfunctional enough that it somehow works. To me, that's not fun to write about. If you can only tolerate that pairing, well then, there is a TON of SanSan fanfic out there already!! So go enjoy, sweet summer child.
> 
> This is a slowburn romance with immediate tension. Clegane, in my opinion, does not dole out immediate affection. That shit is earned! Although, that doesn't mean that sexual tension can't be immediate xD
> 
> So this is mostly written and finished. There are about 56 chapters in total, and the first 30 are written and ready to go. I will be publishing every few days/once per week and working on the remainder chapters as I go.
> 
> Lana and Sandor start their journey together at chapter 6, so I will try to get those first chapters out pretty quickly and then work on editing the rest as I publish them.
> 
> I ALSO AM LOOKING FOR A BETA READER. Message me for details!

Lana looked out over Meereen, the browns of the world shaping the landscape as the occasional green interrupted the view. She was not unhappy to leave this warm, dry place. Lana was not fond of the Masters, whose blood ran deep within the veins of the city, despite having a new queen that outlawed slavery.

"I am sorry, but you presume to give me commands?" Daenerys asked, and Lana turned around.

The man to which she addressed, an older, tan gentleman with black hair and heavy-lidded eyes said, "With all due respect, my queen, if Lana does not fulfill these obligations, then you will be burying her long before you grant her lands in your home country of Westeros."

Dany tutted. "If you kill her, then I will have _you_ killed."

"It's alright, your grace," Lana said with obvious disappointment as she took a step forward, her sandals clicking on the stone.

"No, it is not," Dany pressed.

"If I may, Khaleesi?" Ser Jorah asked.

Dany stared ahead, breathing heavily until she nodded.

"The assassin orders of Essos...they take themselves very seriously. Especially the Crimson Company. They have deep roots in Asshai, where that woman Quaithe and the Warlock were from. Their vengeance, I imagine, will be of a darker sorts that we do not want to invite."

The man who came to take Lana away, named Dramone, was dressed in crimson, stood taller at those words. He was one of the few assassins to see old age.

"I agree with Jorah, your grace," Barriston Selmy said, the legendary, aging knight that came for Dany when his king abandoned him. "As someone who has dedicated his life to an order, there are special rules and means of conduct. I do not know anything of the dark magic of your sister's organization, but I trust Ser Jorah in that regard."

Dany nodded and shot a sharp gaze to Lana. "And you willingly affiliated yourself with these people, Lana?" Dany asked.

"I did, your grace," Lana said.

"What was your rank?" Dany asked.

"Common assassin."

Daenerys laughed, looking to Dramone. "So if she is a common assassin, then why does she need to fulfill one more mission before leaving?"

"Even if she is a common assassin, my queen, she has been the one training for this specific mission, and her specialties are required for it."

"What do you specialize in?" Dany asked, looking back to Lana.

"High profile assassinations. With poison."

"As a _common_ assassin?" Dany asked. "I didn't think common assassins conducted high profile kills."

"How many assassins have you hired, your grace?" Dramone asked.

"None."

Dramone continued, his tone rife with ego. "We have our own way of categorizing our people. We have many members that specialize in magic from across the black sea, as we follow the Lord of Light. Lana focuses on the common aspects, like the use of her body and weapons, which is why she is a common assassin."

Dany pursed her lips. Lana's heartbeat increased, worried that this would ruin her new relationship with her half-sister. Dany looked to Lana. "You conveniently forgot to mention that you killed people of nobility, which is who I will be gaining the support of."

Lana lightly nodded. "Might prove useful for your enemies, your grace."

Dany's lips wavered, trying to suppress a smile, but finally, she let out a small laugh. "Yes, I imagine so."

Dramone added, "Lana has been with us for ten years, since she first bled, and we have maintained that virtue for our own causes. That is a lot of resources and time that you are taking from us. As a token of respect to you and the magic that your dragons have brought to this world, we will allow her to follow you _after_ she completes her task."

Lana knew there was no way out of this, but it was not her place to tell the queen how to conduct herself. 

"Gold will not work for you?" Dany asked, a tenderness in her voice that initially drew Lana in. Something about her sister was so genuine, and it made her think that Dany could be a great queen of Westeros one day.

"Gold won't train a new member in the timeframe that we need. Gold will only buy us a faceless man. While they _are_ superior in many ways, it does not look good for our order to hire other assassins. I am sure I don't have to explain that."

"Surely it doesn't take that long to train someone for a mission?" Dany countered.

"Saelolana," Dramone said, using Lana's full name, and her eyes fastened to him. "Was training for this mission for the entirety of last year. Certain trusts were required to gain, and they take time to foster. I prefer it if I did not have to train another."

"What is the mission?" Dany asked, her tone conceding.

Dramone sighed but did not take his gaze off of the queen. "To kill Lady Hornley of the Horned Castle. Lana will enter as a handmaiden and gain her trust that way. The buyer of this assassination has requested that our member stay with Lady Hornley for a time, slowly poisoning her and giving her a painful death. Since Lana specializes in poison, you can see that she would be hard to replace."

"That is a Westerosi house," Jorah said quietly.

"Why this Lady Hornley?" Dany asked.

"That is private information."

"How long will Lana be gone?" Dany asked, moving on. Lana's palms began to sweat as she silently watched on.

"Could be months to a year before the buyer sends word to strike. No more than a year, however, per our terms," Dramone said.

Dany's hand formed a fist. "She could die."

"She most _definitely_ will if she abandons us without fulfilling her duty."

Dany glanced to Jorah, who said, "It's not a bad deal Khaleesi. We do not even need her yet."

"She is my half-sister and the dragons like her. She is my only family. What do you mean we don't need her?"

"What I meant is Lana's role is about fleshing out the Targaryen house. Right now, she wouldn't do much, as she is just a bastard and has no dragons, and yours are still too small to ride. Let her get used to the lands of Westeros, then bring her back as we go to take the throne."

Dany looked down to the ground, her displeasure explicit. Lana straightened her back, clasping her wrist in front of her body as she waited for the queen to dole out her verdict.

"I will be looking for you in a year's time, sister. If then, you still seek me out, I will make you a Targaryen."

Lana's heart sunk, and also soared at those words. To be called 'sister' meant more than she could have ever imagined. Although, this conundrum was all Lana's fault, as it was foolish to think that she could leave without Crimson Company following her.

She had just been too excited, too happy to know her real family. Never the less, she knew this had to be done. "Thank you, your grace. I _will_ be back."

Dramone remained, not leaving until Lana was at his side while she said her goodbyes, which were long and heartfelt, even if they had only known each other for three weeks.

Lana remembered how nervous she had been to initially present herself to the queen. When she first arrived, they dismissed Lana's claims as being Dany's bastard sister, mostly because her hair was pale, but still yellow, and her eyes were a pale blue, not purple. 

Luck trailed closely to Lana that day, as Selmy vouched that her father had, indeed, bore a bastard.

When asked as to how Lana turned up in Essos, Lana informed Dany that their father had traded her for four dragon eggs when her mother died in childbirth.

_"Your grace," Selmy had said, "That aligns with what I know. Your father used to sit in the throne room with a box, one we did not know what was in it. That is around the time he started to go mad, saying 'they should have hatched...they should have hatched' Eventually that turned into 'burn them all'"._

It had helped that the dragons welcome Lana's presence, something they nearly never did with a stranger. And when Lana revealed that fire couldn't burn her, it was everything Daenarys needed to see to know that the blood of a dragon coursed through Lana's veins.

And when Lana had touched Rhaegal's face...she knew for her own self. She knew it then that she had dragon's blood in her. It came as no surprise to Lana when she sought out Daenerys when she learned her half-sister was in Meereen.

As she turned away from Daenerys and walked alongside Dramone, Lana was already envisioning her return to this place and aid her sister in their voyage west.

Lana had no idea the adventure that awaited her.


	2. At King's Landing

Lana leaned back into her chair, the soft breeze of the salty, summer air gently brushing over her skin.

She laid her hand on the table, running it over the fine wood that was lit by candles, as the sun had yet to rise. She found all of this quite entertaining. Here she was, in King's Landing, where if fate allowed it, she would be back one day with her half-sister to steal it back. Especially from the idiots that ruled it.

Gods she hated the Lannisters. Especially Joffrey.

It had been a long six months since she had last seen Dany, and being in King's Landing didn't make it easier.

It was fairly obvious that the boy king was not a Baratheon, which only resulted in Lana losing respect for the Lannisters. They put a bastard on the throne, and he had all the makings for a second Mad King. They were a selfish and narcissistic house.

It was tempting to say fuck it and strike down the king himself without any orders. When Joffrey had handled Sansa Stark like she was nothing more than a common wench, all because her brother was at war with him, it took everything that Lana had not to call him a cunt right then and there.

The petulant king didn't realize that he was giving his usurpers _more_ cause to take the throne from him. Abused dogs all eventually bit their masters, or given the chance, abandoned them for something better. It wouldn't be long before the seven kingdoms thought similarly. It was already happening in the north.

Either way, in some small sense, Lana was grateful that she got to experience Joffrey as king before waging war against him. It made her feel justified for Dany's reclamation, even though she wasn't supposed to be in King's Landing in the first place.

When Lady Morganna Hornley purchased Lana from a handmaid's trainer in Essos, she was supposed to live in the Horned Castle. But they didn't anticipate Lady Hornley being offered a betrothment to Tommen Baratheon, which prompted a move to the Red Keep to live among court until Tommen was of age. It was an age difference of about nine years, with Lady Hornley at only twenty.

Lana looked at the green gemstone necklace on the table, spotting a small dullness in the shine. She grabbed the rag next to her and continued to rub at it, the morning candlelight aiding her in sight. The shape and color made her think of a dragon egg, like the ones she saw as a child. The priestesses of Asshai would give them away on rare occasions to very high paying bidders. It was what she had been traded for at birth.

_Somewhere, in these halls, are the very eggs that father traded me for._

The door to her shared room opened. "Lady Hornley has just woken, Vaella," Ellyn said, using Lana's pseudonym. 

"Thank you, Ellyn," Lana said with a smile as she rose from her seat, wrapping the necklace in the handkerchief as she would give it back to her lady. The maids all rose an hour before dawn in order to dress and style their hair, and to be awake for their ladies instead of sluggish and tired.

"I will walk with you. I have to tend to Lady Jolton," Ellyn said, straightening out the thin fabric of handmaids after a small gust of wind toyed at it.

"Excellent," Lana said. She liked Ellyn, and hoped she survived whatever wars were to come for the iron throne.

It was an odd storm of conflict inside of Lana , to both desire the potential life of a lady and to want to preserve the identity that she had spent twenty-three years forging for herself. She hoped that she'd have handmaids like Ellyn. The thought made her furrow her brows, as something felt so foreign about that thought.

"So, I heard rumors of Stannis Baratheon, and that his fleet is coming to sack the city," Ellyn said as they passed by torches that had licked the walls too many times, staining the stone black.

"Surely we will be safe here?" Lana asked, wondering if a siege was really coming. If it was, then what was she was supposed to do about Lady Hornley? Did she follow through with her mission and kill Lady Hornley before the siege? Lana didn't have any direct orders to do so. _I am not supposed to be here, in King's Landing. This was unexpected._

"Lady Jolton seems worried. There's a chance she is going to flee back home," Ellyn said and looked to Lana with worried brown eyes, the gentle curls of her black hair bouncing as they walked.

Lana tutted. "Lady Hornley would never leave. She is too devoted to Cersei." _I may have to just kill her and run for it, and hope it was for the best._

"Your lady seems, ah, difficult, at times," Ellyn said quietly after they passed by a guard in red armor, which glinted softly in the torchlight.

"She has faced many obstacles that produce someone of a tougher kind," Lana said in the most politically correct way that she could.

"Well, you seem able to handle her. Good for you," Ellyn said, shivering slightly from the cold morning. The winds from the ocean always brought a salty chill.

They rounded a corner, and the sky was brighter on this side, facing the rising sun. Lana's gaze latched to another that was walking in their direction, towards the king's chamber.

He was a man that they called the Hound. He was taller and broader than most men, with a burned face that was hard to miss. He was one of the few men walking the halls of kings that bore such scars, which Lana found curious, as who would want an un-scarred man with no dents in his armor to guard a king? The Hound was the only man to fit such a description.

Sandor Clegane glanced at the two of them, to which Ellyn looked away immediately. Lana, on the other hand, nodded in his direction, fascinated by such the contrast that he made to all the others. Among the few talents that made her a crimson assassin, one of them was judging characters.

And he was an enigma. She liked those. They were a challenge. "Good morning, ser."

He immediately revealed disdain, throwing her a firm, livid stare, wrinkling the scars on his face. "I'm not a damned ser."

Lana paused in her walking, and Ellyn made sure to take a few steps away before stopping herself. "I thought it was only sers that guarded a king?" Lana asked with a furrowed brow, quite confident that she had that right. A mystery, perhaps?

He scoffed and said with an arrogance, "It's a bunch of idiots that become sers, and they have just as much honor as the backalley whores that they fuck."

Lana closed her eyes for a few seconds, truly taken aback by the coloring of his words. _A mystery, indeed._ "So, then, how are _you_ the one to guard the king? Isn't that a knights job?" she asked. Had she gotten it wrong when learning of their customs here?

He turned to face her fully, his eyes lacking any bit of warmth, and he reminded her of the pit fighters in Meereen. Even though the scar was horribly ugly, with the flesh forming valleys and ridges, marring him something terrible, she couldn't help but wonder if he would have been more handsome. Which was surprising, because everyone talked about him as if he was like one of the stone men. _Perhaps that is why he is so grouchy._

Clegane said, "If you have to ask, then you're not worth explaining it to."

He turned around and continued about his day, the sound of his armor clinking with every heavy step he took, towering over those around him.

She turned back to Ellyn and they continued about their morning. "Well, he is definitely _not_ a knight. But you know, I think that's better. If I were a king, I'd want someone like him defending me. It's like getting through a bunch of lions only to realize you have to fight a direwolf at the end, one with a missing ear and scar over its eye," Lana said, thinking it through. It was like the Lannisters to do such a thing. In truth, she loved learning about others. It was what made her astute in her trade.

"Lana, _don't_ talk to the Hound," Ellyn warned. "You are right. There is a reason he guards Joffrey. A soul mad enough to confront the Hound winds up in the grave. They say that half of his victims turn to ghosts because of how terrifying he is before death," she said, and looked over her shoulder for good measure. "Plus, that scar is atrocious, and terrifying."

"His scar is not so unbecoming. I have witnessed worse," Lana said, surprised that everyone focused so heavily on it. His hair covered most of it.

"Well, true, that he might be somewhat handsome without it, but it has completely spoiled him, and further, his demeanor," Ellyn said. "He's just so uncouth, and ill-mannered."

"Why is he always so crass? How does someone get employed on a kingsgaurd who behaves so poorly?"

"He isn't like that to the lords and ladies, obviously. Like the rest of us, he knows how to behave when he needs to. But to anyone else, he makes the jagged mountains of Dorn look soft. I say just leave him be and let him drink, whore and kill to his heart's desire."

Lana smiled, knowing not to push it further without seeming odd for a lady of her role. "Thank you for the warning, Ellyn. I heed your caution."

They eventually parted their ways, and Lana arrived to Lady Hornley's room, standing in front of a finely carved wooden door with two ram's horns on it. She heard coughing on the other end. Poison. Lana had poisoned the lady of twenty name days, to induce a slow death, as she was paid to do.

It would be over soon for the lady, however. Lana would soon give the Lady of Horns a lethal dose, and then return to Essos.

To Daenerys. To her half-sister.

It made Lana sad to think that she'd never see her friends of the Crimson Company once she came here permanently. Although, maybe a few could come and serve her. She would need guards. She was good at killing, but she was small, and easily overpowered. She was lethal like a snake, but needed the strength of a bear to protect her among men with plated armor. She already knew of a few that she could ask.

Yes. It won't all be sad.

Lana touched the cold metal of the handle and opened the door, smiling as she bowed.


	3. Mission Orders

The sun had risen, hit midday, and sunk back below the horizon by the time that Lana was done with her shift. The lessor handmaids would take over after her, in case their lady ever needed help in the hours of the wolf.

As Lana left her shared handmaid's room, donned in a wool dress and cloak, she walked the firelit halls with her hood up, her head held high in a display of confidence. She learned that as long as one acted like they were meant to be doing something, people rarely questioned it.

There was _one_ bonus to living at the Red Keep – her and a few handmaids would sneak out at night and go to a nice tavern that had some of the best wine she had ever tasted. They didn't get to drink often in the Crimson Company, as it dulled one's mind.

She smiled to herself, as that was the point. She liked the way it dulled her mind, and the way red wine tasted.

Lana walked down a set of stairs with a gentle click of her sandals, the moon giving them a gentle glow where the flames couldn't touch. At the bottom were two others wearing hooded cloaks. Alissa and Kari both looked up at her, Alissa with the red hair, and Kari with the dark blonde.

They greeted each other with smiles and retellings of the drama of their day while they walked to the tavern that was just outside of the Red Keep's walls. Many handmaids, especially ones that tended to the Queen, didn't partake in this activity. Whores and drunken men were frequent guests at this destination, and thus dishonorable to be around. But the handmaids that attended tonight didn't mind it, and they always dressed in the appropriate garb so as not to bring attention to the nobility that they served.

As they walked among men and women of a much lessor class, Lana saw very little difference. Everyone in King's Landing was nothing more than bags of flesh and personalities. Some bags of flesh were lucky, and had a hefty bag of gold to go along with it. That was it. That was the only difference. 

And it meant _everything_ in their world.

It was at this hour of the early night that Lana questioned her desire to become a lady. Sneaking out to drink wine in the taverns was absolutely more exciting than talking about which ways to braid one's hair, which was all that the ladies of court seemed to talk about.

As if reading her mind, Kari asked, "Say, Vaella, how did you get your hair so pale? I know men that would swoon for it at my old work." They passed by men that were drinking, men that were talking to pretty whores, and a few getting into verbal fights. It wasn't late enough for the drunken brawls yet. A few of the men eyed them as they walked, varying from dirty to looking like a well paid sellsword.

"I was born with it," Lana said with a smile, focusing back on their conversation. 

"If you had purple eyes, I'd say you're a Targeryen!" Kari said over the cheering of something going on nearby. They kicked pebbles as they walked from stone chippings from the walls and grounds wore away over time.

Lana laughed. "I wish, Kari. Then I'd be queen, and would just have wine delivered to me!" she jested, trying to push it under the rug.

Finally, they approached the destination of Red Herring Tavern.

"You are from Essos, correct? Maybe you have some old Valyrian blood in you. Could seriously _be_ a Targeryen," Kari said, pressing the matter, prompting Lana to release a curt sigh through her nose.

"She _can't_ be a Targeryen," Alissa said. "Her hair is pale, but it's still blonde. And her eyes are blue."

"Some Targeryens had blonde hair and blue eyes," Kari corrected. "It wasn't many, though," she admitted.

"I wouldn't doubt it, but I also cannot confirm it. I grew up an orphan in Essos," Lana said, rubbing her tongue on the backside of her teeth in a nervous manner. She doubted they'd know, but with spiders lurking, she didn't like anything even merely suggesting her true heritage. 

The three women entered the tavern, the noise of it all penetrating her ears. And even though there was much to be distracted by, Lana was already observing the environment, seeing who was drunker than who, who was a stranger and who was familiar, listening in to conversations, and noticing the state of every man and woman inside.

They all three got a cup of wine, to which they sat in a corner to enjoy their drink, the smell of smoke, perfume, and leather permeating their senses.

"One day, I want to go to Essos myself, and find me a rich husband so I can drink wine on my own balcony like the ladies do in the keep," Kari said, taking a sip as she relaxed in her seat, pursing her lips with a smile.

"I'm fine working in the keep," Alissa said, taking a deeper drink than usual. "I get to drink my wine down here, and that works for me."

Kari's brown eyes glanced to Lana. "Why did you leave Essos, Vaella?" Kari asked, nodding her chalice to Lana. "I don't think I ever asked."

"Opportunity. I look like the Targeryens, like you said, but not enough to be an actual threat. Some think it makes their house look more noble to have someone like me serve them," she said, telling half the truth. Her ability to appear demure, kind, and not a threat, paired with her appearance, made her easy to trust. She didn't quite know why, but that's just how it was.

It was how she was able to get close to the elite.

The ladies began to gossip and laugh, getting another round of drink. After a short time, Lana turned her attention to a large man walking in, the heavy sound of his armor catching her attention. He was with two others.

"Have you met the Hound yet?" Kari asked, watching where Lana's gaze went. Lana was busy watching Sandor Clegane, who walked about like he was hoping someone would piss him off, just so he'd have an excuse to gut someone.

"Briefly, and not formally," Lana said as she moved her gaze back to the women.

"Scary beast," Alissa said and took another drink from her cup.

"I fucked him a few times," Kari said. For a moment, Lana forgot Kari grew up as a the daughter of a whore, and became a whore herself, before she earned her place as a kitchen wench.

"Well, because he _paid_ you," Alissa said. "From your previous profession," she added, always slightly judgmental about it, her cheeks turning as red as her hair.

Kari snickered. "I wouldn't mind doing it again, for free in fact. His hands are strong, and his arms are thick. It's fun the way he tosses you around. Fucks in a really nice, primal way, like you're prey and not leaving until he's done. And you're _definitely_ not going anywhere until he is done," Kari said with a dark smile.

"Sounds terrifying," Alissa said, tucking her chin into her neck.

"It's quite fun. I like being handled, you know? You get over his scar pretty quickly."

"And what pleasure did _you_ get?" Alissa asked with more judgement.

"The joy of being properly fucked?" Kari asked with a small chuckle. "I don't know. What exactly do you mean?"

"He didn't, you know, _tend_ to you?" Alissa asked meekly.

"I was a _whroe_. We don't get paid to be pleased. That's just a pleasant bonus when it happens."

"How did he get his scar?" Lana interjected after taking her last swig, indulging in her annoying, random fascination with Clegane. Just when she managed to forget about him, he seemed to reappear.

"I heard his bedding caught fire," Alissa quickly replied.

"I heard his brother pushed him in the fire when he was younger," Kari said with a mischievous grin.

Lana frowned. "Well, that's sad."

"And also terrifying. You don't want to meet the Mountain," Kari said, her eyes finally showing some fear.

"The Mountain? That's _his_ brother?" Lana asked, looking back to Clegane who took a long drink of ale, slamming it on the table as he sucked his lips to his teeth. He looked up, and nearly immediately, his gaze ran into hers, a loathing quickly expressed. _Apparently, I am not the only one who is alert_. She looked back to the ladies before her, her heart racing and adrenaline dripping into her veins from being noticed. Her instinct was to leave. Immediately. But he was no threat. Not yet, anyway. Leaving would be suspicious. "I have heard of the Mountain. He raped that Martel girl," Lana said, trying to pretend like she didn't want to rush out of there. 

Kari sighed and faced Lana. "The Hound is a grumpy bastard that can kill you with one punch, no, a _flick_ , to the face, but he doesn't seek out torturing people like his brother does. The Hound is brutal, but not cruel."

Lana white knuckled her cup as she ruminated on these potential truths. "I didn't know the Hound was related to such awful scum."

"I think he feels the same way," Kari said, leaning her head back as she drained every drop from her cup.

"I think they are from the same rotten roots," Alissa said, pushing her cup away.

"You shouldn't punish him for his brother," Lana reasoned. "If that _is_ the truth, anyway. Could explain why he is so mean."

"I am punishing him for being rude, scar or not. He's just plain mean, sad backstory or not," Alissa pressed. Lana gave a conceding nod, as she wasn't wrong there.

The women left for the night, and Lana was careful not to look back at the Hound, despite how much every inch of her begged to do it. She knew better than that. Every interaction with someone like him needed to be calculating, and with his extra hostile attitude, he was best to avoided for now.

Kari went off to her quarters, and Alissa followed Lana to hers as they shared the same sleeping accommodation. Lana had hoped that Alissa would go on her own way, maybe sneak another night with the squire she had been seeing, but instead, she followed Lana. They chatted quietly until they reached their room, where they finally parted their ways.

As Lana went to her bed, she opened up the divider that gave her privacy. From the pockets of her wool dress, she quickly removed her weapons, hair dye, and took off the extra layers of leathers that she had on underneath. 

She had hoped that she would get to explore the dungeons and crypts tonight, imagining that if there _were_ dragon eggs, they would be with the skeletons. At least, it was a place to start.

Lana left the room to grab some fresh water from a barrel outside when a dirty child ran up to her, handed her a note, and ran off.

Her thrummed immediately in her chest. She tucked it back into her dress, not bothering to look around. If someone saw, then someone saw. She couldn't do anything about it. Looking around would only show suspicion. _Act like I was meant to receive it._ Although her palms began to sweat as she was nearly certain what was inside.

She went back to her bed as calmly as possible, grinding her teeth she looked around, unblinking.

She opened it up.

_The Stag moves, treachery giving him flight. Take caution, and be ready to leave for safety. Five heartbeats._

The Stag. Stannis. _He is coming with a siege, like it's rumored._ Five heartbeats. _Do the deed_. She breathed so heavily that her chest rose and fell like she had just finished running a mile.

She would kill Lady Hornley during the siege and flee. 

**Next chapter coming out soon! I want to get all the chapters out that lead up to her and Clegane starting their journey together. Just a few more chapters!**


	4. The Calm Before the Storm

A week had passed and Lana had gathered everything that she needed for the mission. She had infiltrated the private stores of Grand Maester Pycell while he was busy whoring.

Lana paid the whores extra to ensure he was thoroughly distracted. The old idiot though too strongly with his balls, but Lana wouldn't complain. It was an easy and reliable form of manipulation. 

She also stopped attending the tavern for her nightly drink, and instead spent the nightly hours scouting the castle, learning its halls, and finding the best routes. She'd make sure to carry rope with her, in case she had a need to repel in a castle built upwards rather than outwards. She would place a bag with her goods, and a fresh outfit, in a secure area right before attending Lady Hornley in Maegor's Holdfast.

Lana wanted desperately to look for the dragon eggs she had been traded for twenty-three years ago, but she withheld. She could _not_ get caught, especially now that everyone was on edge, all the eyes alert and ears listening. The most important thing now was that Lana made it to Meereen to serve Daenerys. That was her true goal and destiny. 

Not only is it what Lana personally wanted, but the shadowbinder that helped raise her, Sedona, told Lana many time that she would need to help bring dragonfire to the northern areas of Westeros. Lana was certain that that meant she had to help Daenerys. 

_Soon. Soon I can leave._

On her only day off, Lana walked the halls of King's Landing, examining it further to see if she missed anything. The sound of multiple men in armor grew louder in the direction that she approached, but she carried on, curious as to who it was. A group of soldiers, perhaps, readying for the siege? Around the corner, Lana was surprised to see it was actually Queen Cersei. She walked with her head held high, her hands gently clasped over the other as her long, golden hair gently bounced with each step.

Lana curtsied and held it low as the queen passed.

But of course, Cersei stopped, and Lana's heart grew quicker in tempo. Lana didn't trust this woman. Not in the slightest.

"Vaella, is it?" Cersei asked with the falsest nicety Lana had ever come across.

"Yes, your grace. I am honored that you know my name," Lana said, forgetting her personal history and donning the face of Lady Morganna Hornley's handmaid.

"I was out on my stroll and was hoping to find you. I know it is your day off, but Lady Morganna speaks so highly of you. If you could please be a dear and tend to Lady Sansa for the rest of the evening. Her current handmaid is...indisposed," Cersei said, her lips moving in a way that Lana's skin crawl, like every word that came pouring out the queen's mouth was gospel.

"Yes, of course, your grace," Lana said.

"Thank you, Vaella." The queen smirked, and continued to walk forward, and Lana sighed as she re-oriented herself as to where Sansa's room was located. This was the last thing Lana wanted to do right now.

In truth, Lana didn't want to tend to the broken girl. Lana did not like to linger around people that were stuck in horrid situations with no means of escape. It was purely depressing. It reminded her too much of slavery in Essos.

But she could not say no. It gave Lana great joy to think of returning to the seven kingdoms, with Dany's dragons, and to see the look on Cersei's face when that happened.

It took Lana longer than she liked to find Sansa's room, as Lana daydreamed about Daenyers' reclamation. Lana finally rounded a familiar corner in this windy castle, and was surprised to see that she was greeted with Sandor Clegane standing outside of Sansa's quarters.

Lana stood up straighter, hiding a smile, wondering if she'd get to know more about this odd soldier. This place was so dull, and she enjoyed any mental exorcise she got to get.

He glanced her way, and as she racked her brain for anything to spark up a dangerous conversation, he looked back ahead with no change in his expression. She pursed her lips. _That was disappointing._

"Is Lady Sansa inside?" she asked. 

He glared at her, speaking with heavy sarcasm. "No, I just like this spot a lot." He looked back ahead, huffing. " _Obviously_ the little bird is in her cage."

Lana's eyes gently widened, trying to control her odd fascination. Most people at court were easy to understand, but not this one. He was humorous and yet entirely a jackass, and at the same time he was not cruel like Ser Meryn, who preferred to hit Sansa, while Clegane offered her his cloak. Lana enjoyed that, in a curious way. Plus, Kari's words about him were hard to forget whenever she was near him. "Thank you for the help," she said graciously, wondering if that would anger him. _Just what makes this man tick?_

He merely grumbled in return.

She knocked on the door, ignoring him for now and neglecting her own wants. She was like a child wanting to play with a direwolf, despite knowing it could bite or scratch at any time without having gained its loyalty. It was a fault of hers, and it had gotten her in trouble in the past. She had to avoid trouble for now, especially if she wanted to be an actual lady.

"Who is it," asked a miserable voice.

"Vaella. I am your new handmaid for the day."

"Come in."

Lana opened the door and shut it to see a sad girl with auburn hair and dead, blue eyes. Her underdress was on, the dress for the day still lying on her bed.

"Is the Hound still out there?" she asked.

"He is my lady," Lana answered softly.

"Why does he have to stand out there? Is it because of the siege?"

"I do not know, my lady."

"Who are you anyway? You look like a foreigner," Sansa said, her blue eyes full of judgement, her hands softly tumbling over the other, her body lanky from growth and probably refusing to eat. 

"I am from Essos, My lady."

"Why are you here? At King's Landing?"

"I was imported by Lady Hornley, and I lived in-"

"Stop. I don't want to hear any more. Just help me put on my dress," she said and walked over to the mirror, the soft rays of the sun touching the red of Sasna's hair.

Lana nodded and went to assist. Sansa still had a gentle cut on her lips from where Ser Meryn smacked her when Joffrey tortured her in front of the court. Lana had noted that Clegane helped her that day, the first to bring her his cloak. It was then that her curiosity for him spiked. _What a confusing man. Despite being a jackass, he ironically seems to be the most genuine of them all._

The only other people of court to garner Lana's deep interest were Little Finger and Lord Varys, although she quickly discarded that. They were not meant to tempt, as she learned they liked to spy as well. The least amount of cords in the spider's web that Lana could touch, the better.

"They say Stannis is coming," Sansa said quietly as Lana was lost in thought, trying to understand Clegane.

"I hear the same rumors," Lana said, trying up the back.

"I have to sit in Maegor's Keep when he comes," she said, looking over herself.

"I am sure it will be very safe. I will be there too, for Lady Hornley."

Sansa was quiet for a moment before sighed and said, "You're boring."

"Hopefully your original handmaid will be back soon."

"Yes, I miss Shae," Sansa said, the first emotion other than despair to be expressed. Lana noted that, and wondered what happened to her. Cersei seemed subtly pleased with this Shae's indisposition.

Sansa turned around, looking Lana up and down before saying, "I don't need a handmaid to take me through the gardens. I just need help with my clothes and linens."

Lana nodded and bowed her head. "Of course, my lady."

Lana gathered the sheets for the day, put them in a basket, and exited the door while Sansa sat by the window and brushed her hair. Lana left the room, and once again, the Hound ignored her as she walked by.

She was disappointed, but the feeling quickly fled, as she had other things to focus on now.

...

Sandor Clegane watched as the handmaid walked away, although he did so from behind, eyeing her hair that was lighter than most. The woman was beautiful, he'd give her that. But she was queer with her tendencies to walk the halls at night, drink wine in taverns, and not recoil at the sight of his face.

It made him wonder if she had been a whore at some point, prior to being a maid. Those were the only women that were able to stand looking at him.

The door opened with creak, stealing his attention, and Lady Sansa darted her gaze after looking up at him. He hated that. Didn't she know that out of all the men here, he was the least likely to beat her or rape her? Her beloved Joffrey was nothing more than a nightmare, and Sansa couldn't bare to look at him either.

Clegane scowled as he followed her. He hated to think that Sansa saw him as someone like Joffrey, the cunt that he was. Clegane felt a need to prove that he wasn't, to prepare her for her role as his queen. She was in need of a true guardian, and it was a role he longed to fill, as much as he knew it was pointless to attempt. 

Every Lord or Lady grew hoggish and egotistical in the end, or they died like Ned Stark, meaning acts of valor from men like Clegane were pointless. 

He often tried to ignore the little bird, but she reminded him too much of himself after Gregor held him in the fire. Sansa glared at Joffrey the same way Sandor glared at Gregor. Except the little bird was in no position to fend off the king, whereas Sandor could hold his own against his brother.

It evoked a protective side in him, knowing she actually needed someone like him to look out for her. Although her inability to show any appreciation or commonsense furthered his notion that any attempt to be a knight was for idiots, and he was behaving like one.

They halted as a group of soldiers walked by, readying for the siege. He caught that Sansa glanced up at him, and as he looked down, she quickly turned head away again. 

"Still can't look at me?" he asked.

"Please, I don't want to have these conversations today," she pleaded, her voice feeble.

He grunted in return, resentful that this girl couldn't see he was the only one willing to help her here. Out of all the songs about life and romance, Sansa was living the realest song of them all – where nothing works and survival is key. But the dumb bird kept singing the wrong song.

He didn't really know why the Stark girl made him want to do some good in the world, but she just did.

He grit his teeth as they walked, the sweat underneath his armor dripping down his back and balls. All the while, little Joffrey was sitting in his room, preparing his armor for the siege with a nice cup of wine and Cersei to dote on him.

Clegane was nervous about the siege, in truth. He didn't want to die here, in this stupid fucking castle serving the worst shits in Westeros. Especially Joffrey. The golden-haired prick was getting on his last nerves and growing sadistic, along with entitled. Kingship just made him worse. How long would it be until Clegane would have to commit horrendous acts that made even _him_ shudder? Why would he want to die in a war for Joffrey?

Clegane looked down at the red haired girl walking slightly in front of him. She had it worse. She would have to bed the king eventually, bare his children, and suffer him until he, or she, died. And mad little shits like Joffrey always seemed to live the longest.

The Stark girl didn't deserve that, and Clegane could do mostly nothing other than watch.

All because Cersei couldn't stop fucking her brother. If she had had Robert's offspring, it might be different now, and a boy with actual sense might be on the throne. And even though Clegane had only had twenty-eight name days under his belt, he felt like he was growing too old to bow down to those that didn't appreciate him. Maybe to anyone.

Clegane couldn't put his finger on it, but something was feeling off; a lingering sense that his time to leave was growing closer.

...

**We are getting closer to when the meat of the story starts! I really just wanted to build up their characters, backstory, and setting before just diving right in.**


	5. Fuck the King

Lana sat in the Maegor's Keep with the other women, who shivered with fear while the queen drank herself into oblivion. They couldn't hear the war, but Lana knew that men outside were dying to protect this castle.

What a waste. They would be doing it all over again soon, except again dragonfire.

As the siege arrived, the panic rode strong in its wake. It had been a few hours of sitting in the stone fortification with weak, cowering women before Sansa had left the Keep. The queen had even sent for Joffrey. _What an idiot._ In Lana's opinion, Cersei should let her son die with some kind of pride and glory, not snivel away under his mother's skirts.

Lady Hornley asked for another cup of wine and Lana had one ready. Lana walked over to the beautiful young woman with yellow hair, like a younger twin of the queen. Lana had to admit that her and Tommen would have made beautiful children. Perhaps it was even a reason for why Cersei chose her.

Lady Hornley smiled at Lana, coughing, the bags under eyes darker today. She said to Lana,"Well, it was short-lived, but I am happy to have had you as my handmaid."

"Yes, it's been an honor, my lady," Lana said with a smile. Whatever guilt a normal person had for committing such an act, Lana burned it away. Lady Hornley was not as innocent as she seemed, or else she wouldn't have had someone pay for her execution.

The dark light of the candles softly flickered against the metal chalice that Lana handed to her lady. Lady Hornley took a long drink of the wine, and of course, Lana had ensured that a lethal dose was inside. She had a few more lethal doses on her, in case something happened to this cup.

But the lady drank it, and it would finally be over soon.

Lana leaned in, like she was about to tell her lady something private. "Master Xirgis thanks you for you time," Lana said, bowed, and walked away, but not before she caught the look of confusion and dread in her Lady's brown eyes. Lana wished she could have stayed to see the realization, but she would not risk it.

It wasn't until Lana was out of the room that she heard the screams.

Lady Hornley would no doubt be choking by now, as the poison was quick to hit the bloodstream, slowly closing the larynx. The Gripping Widow, they called it. Lana ran through the halls, doing her best to act hysterical, throwing a dash of onion juice in her eyes. She approached guards. "Assassin! With the women!" she shouted crying near real tears from the sting.

The men ran, and once out sight, Lana ceased her falsities and growled as her eyes stung something fierce. She blinked heavily, tears still forming as she made her way to the statue that she hid her bag behind. She placed a hand on it, closing her eyes as if it would help the burn. She opened them again, her nose starting to run, and she slung it over her shoulders. She walked to the wall that she scouted earlier, and repelled down in order to get as far away from the kill site as possible, and as quickly as possible. Luckily, she didn't need her eyes too much for this, which still burned. She thought it was funny that in a world like this, they still didn't have any antidotes to onion juice in the eyes.

As she moved, she could hear the sound of men running, fighting, and screaming. It would allow her to runaway unnoticed.

Once she felt like it was clear, Lana hid behind a bush and changed her clothes. She already had leather pants and a leather corset on underneath, topping it with a thin, loose shirt, cinching it with a metal belt around her waist. She threw up the hood that she tied around her neck, quickly put on a pair of boots, grabbed her bag, and began to run through the castle, ready to leave this place behind.

Adrenaline was fueling her veins with so much vigor that her legs were nearly shaking. She had done it. She had killed the lady and poisoned her slowly. She would be able to return to Dany now.

She rounded a corner and ran into Ellyn, who was completely disheveled.

"Vaella!" She shouted with joy in her eyes, barely lit by the braziers. Her expression quickly turned to fear. "Your outfit. What's happening?"

"I'm leaving," she admitted, breathless from the rush adrenaline.

"Did you hear that there was an assassin?" Ellyn asked, nearing her.

"I did. It's terrifying," Lana said with little concern, nodding her head as she tried to move past Ellyn.

"Quite," Ellyn said, and everything about the girl changed. Ellyn stared, unblinking at Lana, as the expression on her face turned to nothing. Lana paused, her brows furrowed, and she looked over the handmaid.

Ellyn attacked Lana with a speed she was unprepared for, unaided by the irritation in her eyes. Ellyn placing a dampened cloth over Lana's mouth. _Gods_ this woman was much stronger than Lana had ever anticipated. Every move that Lana made proved entirely useless – Ellyn predicted them all, and even countered them.

_She is trained._

At some point, Lana had fallen to the cold, stone floor, lying on her back as her body began to lose control of its muscles, her mind fading in and out of consciousness. She squinted her eyes to see Ellyn pull her off her face, as if a wet cloth had been lying over it this whole time.

A faceless woman.

"It is nothing personal," she said with a neutral tone only known to the order, her face completely unrecognizable.

And then Lana was consumed by the blackness.

...°°°...

...°°°...

Clegane was half drunk and on the back of Stranger, stabbing anyone that came near, his entire armor and face covered in so much blood that eventually there was a permanent stench of iron.

Once out of the gates, he rode for freedom until he could no longer smell the smoke. Finally, he turned back to look at the castle, which was a small green dot of fire that was still reaching for the sky with a vibrancy no normal fire had. _I fucking hate fire._

He looked in the general area of the castle where Sansa Stark would be. He felt a pang of regret for leaving her after she told him no, but it was too late to go back and grab the Stark girl now. The idiot child didn't understand men at war. But she would understand that lesson one way or another, as Clegane had seen Lannister forces move in.

They'd won.

And now Sansa would officially be Joffrey's pet.

Clegane worried that this day would somehow haunt him, and he wasn't sure why it would. The castle before him was full of murderers, liars, rapers, and people that paid them all alike. He was used to them, and to the torture that they doled out. He sucked his bottom lip to his teeth and sneered. The Stark girl didn't belong among them, and she couldn't do a damned thing about it. _That's_ why it bothered him.

He _could_ have helped, made her come with him. Someone like her needed someone like him, and he just left her.

But fuck it. She made her decision, and she was not his to protect anyway. She couldn't even stand to look at him.

He turned Stranger back around and rode in the moonlight. When he finally breathed in fresh air that was far removed from the capitol, he slowed his warhorse down to take a swig of water.

He laughed to himself. "Fuck the king," he said out loud with a smile. Clegane was alive, and unburnt from the flaming fucking arrows, managing to only suffer a few flesh wounds and bruises.

The more he trotted along the road, the more he was grateful that he didn't take the Stark girl. Honesty, what had come over him to act like a knight? She'd be nothing but trouble, whinging the whole way north. And to top it all off, she would probably be ungrateful for his act, like the rest of them. Like Joffrey. She already _was._

Clegane needed to watch himself, lest he grew too soft.

There was no surer way he'd die than to grow soft.

...°°°...

When Lana woke up next, she was mostly aware of how little space she had. The air no longer smelled of shit, and instead, smelled like that of wood and rum.

And like the change of morning to night, Lana calmed. She grit her teeth, flared her nostrils and opened her eyes wide as she stopped moving. She let herself take in the details, one small piece at a time.

The faceless woman. Wood and rum. The siege.

Lana became aware of the sound of a carriage rolling on a wet, dirt road and the sound of a horse trotting in mud. Lana smirked. The faceless woman had thrown her in a used barrel.

Lana slowly looked down, trying not to make a noise as her heart thrummed so hard she worried the faceless woman would hear it. There were chains on her wrists. She tried to move her ankles, and quickly realized they were chained too.

The next step was to see if there was any way to escape.

She knew of ways to torque the chains apart, but there was no way that the faceless woman would not be aware of that. They were No One for a reason, like a hive mind of professionals designed to have no emotions, desires, or history.

They were just No One.

"You're quiet," the faceless woman said, her voice penetrating the wood.

Lana held her breath, shocked the woman was already aware of Lana waking up. _Either I made a sound, or the poison she used is very calculated. Probably both._

"Well, wanted to see if I could escape. Don't think I can," Lana said with acceptance. She was fucked, at least until she got where she was going.

"It would really be against your interest."

"Can I at least come out?"

"Might be spotted."

"Why am I not dead yet?" she yelled through the barrel, her voice echoing against the wood.

"You will be soon. But the man who gave your name paid to see you first. So we must go to him."

...°°°...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Two more chapters until they meet on the road! I hope everyone has been enjoying it. Please let me know if you are! Thanks to everyone so far who gaev me kudos or bookmarked it! It means so much to me!**


	6. Facing Lord Morton

The faceless woman, who Lana started to think of as No One, finally let Lana out to use the woods as her chamber pot. It was nearly morning by then, the soft glow of the sun revealing all the dew on the surrounding greenery, although Lana felt it in her wet clothes.

"Would you like to ride in the back, or in the barrel?" No One asked with a flat tone. Lana still couldn't believe this was Ellyn the whole time. No One was more homely than Ellyn with long facial features, and ashen brown hair and black eyes.

"Obviously the back."

"Then do so without causing trouble," she instructed and helped Lana into the back, the cart creaking and groaning. "If you become an annoyance or try to give us away, your death will be painful," No One warned as if she were merely telling Lana the status of the weather.

Lana nodded and settled into her seat that was covered in hay. No One chained her wrists to a metal ring on the floor of the cart. "Who paid for my killing?" Lana asked with a somber tone, looking at her cuffed hands, the irons freshly forged. _Probably from the house of Black and White._

"Lord Morton Hornley," she said and whipped the reigns, to which Lana lurched with the movement, although her muscles were tensed from those words.

Lana's blood ran hot. What in the seven hells was doing? "What? Why would he do that?"

"That is for him to answer."

"I only did my job," Lana said, nearly offended at such a response. Why would Morganna's father hire a _faceless_ to kill Lana?

"And I am doing mine."

Lana leaned back into the wood, her wrists and ankles still bound as the sun began to shine through the misty air. Lana wanted to hate No One, as _she_ is who took Lana. But her words were correct, and No One was only doing her job, just as much as Lana was. 

Lana was annoyingly conflicted, not knowing if she should yell at No One or sit in silence. In truth, she kept scanning the area for anything to kill No One with. Anything, even a strip of cloth could be used to choke her out. Lana looked at the chains on her wrist. She could wrap her hands around No One's neck and try to choke her with the metal. But alas, she wouldn't be able to reach. No One seemed to have thought of that as well.

"I thought you might like to die with pride," No One said.

"What?" Lana asked, looking over No One to see where her weapons were, which were located at her lip and ankles. _I could be stabbed, but use the fire to heal myself._

She looked back at the chains that gave her little room to move. Lana couldn't reach No One even if she wanted to.

"You are quiet, and not annoying. You are taking this, metaphorically, on your feet, and not your knees. It is what someone of our kind does."

The mention of _our kind_ caught Lana off guard, and whether that was on purpose or not, it oddly made her feel less alone in her march towards death. "Well, that's because I don't have much option."

"It is always a shame to come across a face that doesn't deserve to die. But a girl is no one to judge."

Lana decided to indulge in the conversation, for if anything, it could distract. "Do you still have a personality? I mean it genuinely, and not to be rude. I've rarely gotten to know a faceless."

"A girl maintains many things that defines her as a unique servant, but she truly is No One."

"Hm," Lana grunted in reply. "You do know that Lord Hornley is committing a crime, at least to my people. They will not forgive him for this. He is punishing me for doing my job. Surely, your order understands that."

"Then he must answer to _your_ people. A girl answers to the many-faced god, and he has been given a name. Which means he must receive a face. The politics of humans is not for the many-faced god to judge."

Lana tutted, and looked around, the overgrown foliage rather peaceful, if she weren't in his scenario. "How long do we have?"

"I think it is a month, give or take. It is near Casterly Rock."

"This is going to be a long journey," Lana said with impatience in her tone. The Crimson Company would wonder where she was in a month when she hadn't arrived in Qohor.

"At least you are no longer in a barrel."

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
It took nearly a month, like No One said, to reach the Horned Castle.

They didn't arrive without some discomfort, of course. Lana, to her defense, _did_ try to escape more than once. No One was always one step ahead of her. Whatever they did to train the Faceless was more effective than the Crimson Company. 

Each time it just resulted in more constraints for Lana, to the point that when they arrived, nearly a month later, rope was wrapped around her arms and legs, and an arrow pointed right at her head every time she went to take a shit or piss.

They reached the gates of the Horned Castle, which was built into a valley between mountains somewhere outside of Casterly Rock.

The people here were relatively the same as other castles, with the same scowls, smells, and dirty clothes. When they reached the inner walls, the personality of the Horned Castle became apparent. Most of the stonework was with a dark gray stone that matched the color of the horns well.

It was covered in sculptures of ram's horns, their statues of men with ram's horns coming from their heads. This family was known to produce great warriors, full of strength and stocky in build. They seemed to take that very seriously.

Once inside, the walls were lined with ram skulls, and it did the trick to make one respect the home. There was something so eerie about the dead animal's skull that seemed demonic, versus just the skull of a male sheep.

Lana constantly searched for an out. Her body was crusted with scabbed wounds from her scuffles with No One. She really didn't see a way out of this, except for predicting that Ellyn was No One the entire time. Although that was impossible now, and a month in the past.

The grip of a Faceless person was like that of a python with small prey – nearly impossible to escape. The best advise was to just avoid the animal in the first place.

The Faceless were unavoidable, however, as when they were trained, they could pretend to be anyone. They _were_ anyone. 

Lana breathed deeply as they walked the halls, holding her head high. She was ready for death. All assassins were to some degree. Of course Lana didn't want to die, but she was not unprepared to die in the line of her work either.

They were stopped by a short, thick man who informed them that Lord Morton Hornley was away visiting family, and that Lana was to wait in the dungeons. Lana rolled her eyes, as this journey to kill Lady Hornley, Morton's daughter, was diverging further and further from her original goal.

As Lana sat in the dungeons, No One frequently visited her, like a slow moving vulture waiting for its prey, never seeming to be impatient. 

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Two entire _months_ had passed, making that three since she was last at King's Landing, before Lord Morton Hornley finally returned. Lana spent most of the time in her own soils, hungry, and looking off into the darkness, feeling pity for herself that her life was going to end this way. 

Lord Morton let Lana wait, of course, for another week. No One said it was probably a game, but soon she would have to intervene, as the many-faced god needed his new face. Finally, Lana was pulled from the cells, smelling like shit, body odor, and disappointment. Although her pride remained with her.

She wouldn't die sniveling.

She remembered her childhood and the Lord of Light showing himself in the fires. There was more to this world, and that allowed her to walk with little fear as death guided her.

She just wished she had had a little longer. But, it was what it was.

The Lord's hall had more ram skulls adorning the halls, a giant chair with rounded edges, and a beautiful stone floor with large windows. A black ram was in the middle to represent their sigil animal.

They neared a man with onyx hair and a thick, healthy beard that showed many flecks of white throughout. He had the brown eyes of Lady Hornley, and the exact same almond eye shape and broad nose. "So, _you_ killed my daughter," he said.

"Aye, I did," Lana said.

She hoped this wouldn't be the end of her.

" _Why_ did she hire you?" he pressed, his fingers tapping on the table as the fire behind him silhouetted him.

Lana took in a slow breath, releasing it with a calmness that contrasted her disheveled appearance. "Your daughter, my lord, unfortunately, crossed a great Master, and her recklessness drove him to pay for her murder."

"What?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

Lana pursed her lips as she did not want to explain the nuances of his daughter's pour decisions. Lana spoke with impatience. "Well, let's it put this way, Lady Morganna Hornley was not traveling to Essos to taste fresh lemon cakes, my lord. Although, you _could_ say she was there to get a specific taste of another kind," she said, raising her brow.

Lord Morton rose from his seat, his anger palpable even where Lana stood, and yet, she stared at him with tired, jaded eyes. He yelled, "You _dare_ speak to me that way, about _my daughter?_ That you murdered!"

"I was hired to do the job, my lord. It was not out of cold blood," Lana explained, ignoring the bait of his temper.

He took a moment to recompose himself and leaned back into his chair, pinching the bridge between his nose. "Go on, explain why he wanted her dead. I want the details," he said with irritation. 

She took in a deep breathe, smelling her odor. "Well, there was a great Master there who took interest in your daughter. She took interest in him. Based on the information we gathered from the buyer, and from those around, it seems that your daughter promised him that he could become a lord of Westeros. I don't know why. She obviously never followed through with her promise, and when she left, she supposedly drugged him, plundered him, and sailed away with most of his goods. Turns out that was only from one of his houses, and it did not hurt him too terribly, but his pride was destroyed. He paid four our services to end her, both getting vengeance and sending a message to those around him."

He struggled with that news, his lips moving to form words, but never quite resting on one thing to say. After blinking incessantly he finally said, "Aside from that, which I don't even know if I can believe, why did _you_ kill her?"

"Because I am a part of an organization that is paid to kill people."

"Why you? What did you do?" he asked, and she could see he was struggling to find words.

"I was chosen for my aptitude with poisons, which is how your daughter died."

"What poison?"

"A very lethal, very fast, concoction," she said, lying to him. She didn't need to explain the cruel ending that the Master paid for.

"Well one, I don't believe you. Morganna had her flaws, but she wasn't that idiotic. Second, because there is no way you are telling the truth, you still have to die, for the murder of my daughter."

Lana sighed, and said, "I really don't see why. Even if the stories on your daughter are false, we were still paid to kill her. I didn't murder her on my own volition. If anything, you'd want to kill the Master that paid for it."

"Can that be done?"

"I don't give a shit what happens to him," Lana said with a sardonic chuckle. She didn't bother warning him that Lord Morton could potentially start a dangerous altercation with the Masters in the East, but she didn't care about that either.

 

He looked to No One. "Can you kill the man who killed my daughter?"

"You have promised the many faced god with a face. As long as a face is given, a girl can kill anyone, for an extra cost."

"Extra?" he asked.

"I will need to borrow a new face for this one."

"Can you make his death last a long time?"

"I do not care how it is done," No One said.

Lana was about to yell out, pointing out the blatant hypocrisy of it all. But she bit her tongue. She might actually make it out of all of this.

"So why don't I just have one of my men cut your throat, and send the Faceless to Essos?" he asked, looking at Lana.

She held her breath, racking her brain for an answer.

_Shit._

There was no reason. Save for one, and the longer she remained silent, the more she saw victory in his eyes.

"Because there is a mother of dragons in Essos, and killing me would greatly upset her."

He laughed. "Pardon, but why would she give a damn about you?"

"I am her half-sister."

He hooted as he laughed. "Alright, Emmery, cut her throat. She's so desperate-"

"I am not lying," she said, using a passion she had yet to use with him.

"Proof?" he asked flippantly.

"Put hot coals to my skin, set me on fire. I will not burn. Because dragons don't burn."

He nodded to the man that was coming over with his blade out. "Take a torch and hold it to her face."

He brought the flames over, slowly moving it to her face. She slowly blinked, fixing her gaze on Lord Morton. The fire was warm, but it never grew hot. She could feel the flames cleansing her face and hair that it touched, burning off the grime.

"As you can see," she said through the fire, Lord Morton blurring as the fire interrupted her vision. "I don't burn. Kill me, Lord Morton Hornley, and there _will_ be consequences."


	7. On the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a few parts here are a bit rushed. I initially wanted to extend them, but in truth, the main goal is to get her to Sandor. Since this is fanfiction and she is an OC, for now, I decide to just cover the basics here.

"Take the flame back," Lord Morton commanded, to which the guard obliged. "Faceless," he said to No One. "Is this a trick of Essos?

"Not that I am aware," she said, completely neutral.

"So, you clearly have some magic in your veins," he said, now looking to Lana. "Even if you _are_ the half-sister of the dragon queen, how will she know that I killed you?"

"My company follows the Lord of Light. Eventually, if I don't come back, they will look for me in the flames. They will know how I died. Word will reach my sister, as she will want to know as well."

"This is as far-fetched as the stories about the Others and giants."

"Dragons were once a part of those fables, and now they take wing in Essos."

He slowly rubbed the stubble on his face before eyeing No One. "Faceless," he said. "You have no opinions. So tell me the facts. Can her ilk really see into the flames?"

"A girl does not know. But a girl knows that the Faceless follow a god that answers. It is not hard to imagine that another answers in the flames."

"It is a popular religion in Essos?"

"It is growing in Essos, and stems from Asshai and the Shadowlands."

"So you," he said, looking to Lana. "Want me to make a deal with an assassin from the darkest parts of our world? That almost seems unholy."

Again, the hypocrisy was real. "Lord Morton, either kill me or don't. Just know that your house is the Ram. In the nests of my sister's dragons are many skeletons, and often there are ram's horns, their tips completely melted." She had his attention now. "You saw the fire doesn't burn me. It doesn't burn Daenerys Targeryen either. Take the risk, and burn her only relative, or don't. Either way, I am done with this conversation."

He took in a deep breath, grabbing his chalice as he took a long drink. He swirled around whatever liquid was inside before looking up at her, just staring. He nodded and put the chalice back on the table. "Fine, I swear, girl, if I find out you are full of ram's shit, then I will go bankrupt to pay for the Faceless to hunt you down."

To her shock and surprise, the guards came over and quickly escorted her out of the hall. When she reached the outside world, she squinted, putting her chained hands to her face to keep the sun out. She breathed in the fresh smell of trees, dirt, and hay. Even the smell of fresh manure was lovely after being stuck in a cell for two months. Her knees shook and fell to the ground, her throat burning from the joy of being free.

To her even greater shock, they gave her her bag from before. It even had her things inside.

"Do I get anything? Like a sword, or a horse?" she asked as they unchained her.

The guard laughed. "No. You are lucky you got your bag. The faceless freak demanded it be kept, at least until you were dead. Which isn't happening anymore."

Lana wondered why, but wasn't about to question it.

She opened her bag as she walked. All the food in there was spoiled and smelled nearly as badly as she did. She still had a few small weapons, a handkerchief from Dany, her handmaid's dress, salt, honey, a few poisons, a few healing agents, and a bag full of sewing goods for repairs.

°°°

Lana waited until nightfall to steal a horse from the stablemaster, hitting him square in the head to knock him out. She raided his home for food, taking a cruddy sword and a whetstone, wrapping it around her waist and taking off on the healthiest horse she could find.

She rode into the night, using the moonlight as her guiding light. She laughed and trotted quickly to feel the wind in her hair, hopefully airing some of her stench out.

After a while, she turned around, the mountains of the Horned Castle officially behind her. _Holy shit. I am free._ She turned back around, the grin on her face slowly fading, her stomach tying into knots as she looked at a land that she no bearings in.

Her initial job was to kill Lady Morganna Hornley and then travel the King's road up to white harbor, where she could buy her passage without worry of being killed. She was to travel to Bravos from there, where she could travel to Qohor, the Crimson Company's home city.

Now she was three months late, with no map.

She was useless in land that she didn't know. One of her greatest weaknesses was that she had the directional senses of a cross-eyed homing pigeon. She had no idea where she was, and even _with a map_ , she'd probably go in a circle. 

She had studied the map previously, and knew what rivers and roads to look for, but she had a horrible sense of knowing how far she had traveled.

This was one of her greatest fears.

She gripped the reigns, knowing that she had to make it East. At least the sun rose and set in the same spot everyday, which meant she could orient herself that way.

She eventually rested for a few hours until the sun came up. She looked at her firepit that she had built but not used, and decided to leave it that way, lest the smoke draw attention.

To her abysmal luck, as she was tightening the saddle, she saw a few Lannister men approach.

"Good morning, erm, my lady? What happened to you?" one of them asked, his cordial tone turning to complete disgust.

"You look like you crawled out of a whore's ass," the other said and they all sniggered.

"I was mistaken for someone, and upon my innocence, I was released and given a fresh horse. I am on my way back home," she lied, smiling.

"Who held you? And where is home?"

"The Hornley's. Their daughter died recently, and they thought I was her killer," she said with an incredulous chuckle. "Can you believe that? Obviously no one else did, or they wouldn't have let me go. And my home is in White Harbor. Father is a merchant there."

"You do look like the woman that has a bounty on her head. I can see the mistake."

"Oh great, now there is a bounty? It's going to take forever getting to White Harbor when I look like a damned bounty!" she said, trying her best to get this small talk over with. _Fuck me, of course there is a bounty._

"Apparently Lady Hornley was to be married to Tommen, and the queen and Lord Tywin are very angry. Was going to be a good alliance and merging of houses. You best be careful, miss. Much worse than us out there who are willing to bring your head just 'cause it looks like the woman they are looking for. The bounty is fifty gold dragons. We were on our way to inform the Hornley's."

Her stomach nearly fell through her body, the nervousness loosening her gut at those words. She was barely making it out of this alive. She needed to get far away from these fucking lands. What if Lord Morton decided to take the bounty? That itself would pay for the faceless.

"Well, thank you for the warning, lads," she said, her heart thrumming.

"Hang on!" one shouted with a serious tone that made her breathe with flared nostrils, her teeth grinding.

"What's that?" he asked and rode to her bag, pulling out the soft fabric of a handmaiden dress. All three men glared at her with knowing eyes.

Lana just stared at it with no expression, unblinking. She let out a deep breath. "That, good ser, would be a problem."

She took her dull blade, stabbed him right in the balls, and pulled his sword from his hilt as the man cried out in pain. The other men quickly jumped into action, and before she knew it, she was in a fucking sword fight with two men while the other gripped his bleeding cock. This sword was heavy, and she was weak from months as a prisoner.

She dropped the sword, reverting back to her dagger, which was the last weapon on her. Lana ducked and dodged, but she was weak, tired, and famished. They were well fed with shiny armor, and it wasn't long before their hits were landing, slicing at her skin, the warmth of her blood soaking her clothes.

Then, one of the blades went clean through her gut.

She growled. "I fucking hate this part," she said through an anmilaistc tone and expression she reserved only for death.

She slid further forward, feeling the blade tear at her organs, and then stabbed him in the throat as he watched with horrid eyes. He fell, and she slowly pulled out his blade, looking to the other, before glancing at the one with an injured cock. He had fallen from his horse, bleeding out. She took a step to him and stabbed him in the heart. She didn't need him getting involved, if he ever got up.

She could taste blood in her mouth now from the wound in her gut. She smiled at the remaining man, her own blood in her teeth, laughing manically. She had learned that seeing a fairly innocuous woman turn bathshit crazy allowed her a fresh edge on her enemies.

She was _not_ above theatrics. 

"Come, Lannister cunt. Join your brothers in death," she said, blood pouring from her mouth, twirling her dagger in her hand. She tried to ignore the way something felt terribly wrong in her stomach, like she was about to fall apart. _That's because it is._

In his shock, she hurled the blade at him in a throw. It landed in his throat. She moved forward, every step causing her to grimace from the injury to her abdomen. He had dropped his sword to grab the dagger, and in that timeframe, she used his own blade to cut his ankles. He fell over, gripping his bleeding neck. She stabbed both of his hands and jumped onto his spine, to which he let out a bloody, wet cry.

"It'll be over soon. Don't need you moving," she said and went to the fire pit she had built, but not used. She dragged him over, gushing blood out from her stomach and other lacerations, feeling herself growing faint. She had to get it done soon, or she would die.

"Should have taken you out closer to the fire pit," she said, her heart starting to grow empty of the blood. She laid him in it and lit the fire quickly, stumbling herself. She undressed so as not to ruin the only clothes she had and laid in the smoking wood.

"What," he stammered out, his face pale and blood spurting from his throat as he looked at her with terrified eyes.

"Blood magic," she said, watching him die.

Sedona, the shadowbinder that raised Lana, taught her how to use her inability to burn to her advantage. Lana repeated the words in her head as the fire began to grow, the flames licking her wounds and healing her injuries. The man's face slowly turned gaunt, his life force allowing her wounds to repair in unnatural ways, the blood in her veins replenishing via the fire.

It took the rest of the day and her lying in the flames before she felt like her wounds were recovered. By the time the fire was done burning, Lana sat up, naked and smoking. She looked down to see a giant, pink scar where she was stabbed. It will match the others. She looked to the Lannister man who was nothing more than a cooked body. "Thanks for the life," she said and stood. "Sorry about the bounty."

Luck seemed back on her side, as no man had approached that entire time. Perhaps it was the Lord granting her this reprieve. She wouldn't question it, as she never questioned R'hllor. Whatever Sedona thought Lana was alive to do, it must be somewhat true, or the flames wouldn't have healed her.

Lana rummaged through the already stinking bodies, gathering their daggers and swords that she would put on her horse. She stole their food, water and wine, laughing to herself as she guided the horse through the woods, still completely naked, growing delirious from hunger and thirst. "This started off shitty, but I am having a good day. What about you, Clemmy? I hope you're alright with that name. You look like a Clemmy."

The cream colored horse puffed out air in return. She finally reached the river that was hidden in the woods. She cleaned off her clothes, trying her best to make them presentable. The Lannister men were right – she stuck out being a dirty mess. Luckily the fire cleaned her body, and once she cleaned her clothes, she let them dry before putting them back on.

The sun was setting by the time she was dressed again, and she wondered if she should ride through the night or not.

She decided to do it, as she needed to get far from these dead bodies.

She hopped back on Clemmy and rode back to the main road. "Fuck me," she said as she came to a fork. She never remembered a fork in the road on the maps she had studied.

She chose the left path, as it should lead east.

Half way through the night she rested, and so did Clemmy. As soon as the sun was back on her skin, she rode off once more.

She had no idea what to do about the bounty. That was something she had _not_ intended. How was she to make to east without being nabbed? She barely survived three soldiers just now, and she wondered if they were even that talented. They said they were delivering a message, so they could have just been armored messengers. What was she to do if she came across _actual_ soldiers?

She tucked her growing panic away, focusing on the task at hand. _I just have to get east._

With a few more hours under her belt, Lana saw a black horse in the distance.

A _large_ black horse.

At least she didn't look dirtied and like she climbed out of a whore's ass anymore, which meant she should be able to ride right on by. She threw up her hood, ready to push this horse as fast as it could go if need be.


	8. Joining the Group

Lana slowly trotted by, trying to look innocuous.

She grimaced as her stomach still ached from the wound, but happy that it was full of food, and her veins full of blood. On top of wanting to get away unnoticed, she didn't want whoever these men were to steal her new goods.

She realized how unsuited she was for this kind of warfare. It was only her first day out and she had already using blood magic, nearly died, and was coming up on her second group of strangers.

The Lord of Light had already shown her mercy with Lord Morton, then the Lannister men. She believed in her lord with all her heart, but without knowing what he wanted from her, she wondered if, after a time, saving her would grow cumbersome for R'hllor.

She sighed, figuring she needed to accept that she was probably going to die out here. If she accepted it, then there was no need to fear it. And moving forward with little fear would ensure that she made the right decisions.

Lana risked a glance at the group with the black horse, noticing there was a small boy that glared at Lana with a hardened gaze. He was dirty, and she got a sense that she wasn't welcomed.

That was fine, as she didn't want to mingle.

Then a large man with heavy armor exited the woods, tying up his trousers from no doubt either taking a shit or piss.

Lana kicked her horse to a stop.

 _A large man for a large horse._  
There was no fucking way. It dawned on her that she only knew one man large enough to ride such a beast.

"Clegane?" Lana asked with incredulity, and his hand grabbed the pommel of his sword, his face contorting to scorn.

"Great, someone recognized you," the boy said, although Lana was now confident it was a girl.

Lana pulled her hood back. "What are you doing out here?" she asked, worried that maybe _they_ were after her, for the bounty. That didn't make sense though, as Clegane was Joffreys' charge. And he looked dirty, along with the girl. They had clearly been traveling for some time.

He stared at her until he snorted. "What the fuck are _you_ doing out here?"

"Why are _you_ not at King's Landing? Why are you with this girl?" Lana asked, her horse stomping its foot. She had no way to rationalize this.

"You first," he said.

Lana pursed her lips, her eyes darting between the girl and Clegane. "I left during the siege," she said in a flat tone.

"And ended up wandering around out here? For three months?" he asked with ridicule.

"Got sidetracked," she said briskly.

"Whose house do you owe allegiance?" the girl asked with as much stiffness as Clegane. _Seriously, who the fuck is that?_

Lana thought about leaving them and not answering. She thought about lying and saying no one. She thought about saying it didn't matter. But then she realized that if Clegane was out here, then maybe he was no longer working for Joffrey.

If that was true, then she could use him. He had been gentle to Sansa those few times, so clearly there was _some_ kindness in him she could manipulate into getting him to help guide her east. 

_Yes, I need to find what that was. I can use him._ He was exactly what she needed to survive out here. 

"Targeryen," she said with pride.

The girl's face fell and she said, more than asked, "What."

"Daenerys Targeryen in Meereen. The rightful queen of the seven kingdoms. That is my allegiance," Lana said, straightening her back on her horse, gripping the reigns tighter.

The Hound smugly smiled. "I always knew something was _queer_ about you."

She tutted. "Me? You're the one who followed that idiot child of a king."

The girl let out a confused chuckle.

Clegane said through grit teeth. "I don't follow that twat anymore. Told him to fuck off."

Lana's opinion of him went up, just a bit, at those words. "Really?"

"You don't like Joffrey either?" the girl asked with hope, and for the first time, the stranger truly seemed like a little girl.

"That boy king is an embarrassment, and the sooner he is dead, the sooner this kingdom might actually prosper. But then again, it works for me. Makes the people want a new king, or queen," Lana said. 

The girl smiled with approval while Clegane continued to glare. The girl asked, "Where are you going?"

"I was heading to the coast. Going to Essos," she said, trying to sound like she had any idea what that meant.

"I have friends in Bravos," the girl said. Lana slowly turned her head to her. "What kind of friends."

"Valar Morghulis."

"Valar Dohaeris."

"What does that mean?"

Lana chuckled. "That you don't know who your friends are in Bravos." Lana looked back and forth between the girl and Clegane. Something about this wasn't right at all. 

"He is taking me to the Twins," the girl said, as if answering Lana's confusion.

"What's at the Twins?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

Clegane hit her shoulder. "Enough, girl," he scolded.

The girl sighed. "We can't tell you anymore," she said with a flat voice, rolling her eyes.

Lana looked at the Hound. "What are you doing? Seriously? You call me queer, but this is the oddest thing I have seen recently."

"Trying to make some gold," he said with impatience. "Now get the fuck away."

_Manipulating him to help me is going to be quite a challenge._

Then it dawned on her, after considering everything before her. Lana laughed, looked ahead, and quickly assembled the thought in her head. This was too easy. "I'll pay you to come with me," she said.

His anger turned to confusion, then he scoffed at her. "With what? Got a bag of gold stashed away? You still haven't mentioned why you are out here."

"I don't have the gold on me now," she said, ignoring the part about what she was doing out here. "But I can pay you the Lannister's salary."

He laughed, genuinely amused, and the sudden break of hostility caught her off guard. _This man makes no sense_. "What, you the best whore in Essos, or something? Maybe you can just pay be by keeping my dick wet. I'd still take some gold though. A wet dick can only get me so far, but I'll take it as a discount," he said, his eyes even unfriendlier than before. 

He wasn't buying it. The girl punched him. "Gross! I don't want to picture that!"

"I am not a whore," Lana said.

"The only women that don't cringe when they see my face are whores."

"The only women you know are ladies of Westeros who cringe if a man's hair isn't curly enough. And I am not from Westeros."

"Can she come with us?" the girl asked with hope.

Clegane looked offended. "No."

 _"Please._ I am tired of your company. I like her so far."

"You'll be rid of me soon, wolf girl." 

"Wolf girl?" Lana asked, narrowing her eyes. _Yes, there was a smaller stark._ All the play in Clegane's eyes disappeared as a coldness overtook him, his hand back on his pommel. 

"If you don't get back on the road, you'll be a dead whore soon," he threatened, and based on the intensity of his gaze, she knew he meant it.

"Again, I am not a fucking whore. And I am not an enemy. I can truly help. Is that a Stark? Sansa had a missing sister."

"I am Arya Stark," the girl said.

The Hound slowly trained his gaze on Arya. "You clearly don't like her that much," he said, unsheathing his sword and walking in Lana's direction. "You can see why I have to do this?" he asked, feigning politeness.

"Wait! No, I am not an enemy. I promise I can pay you," she said, moving her horse along. She thought she didn't fear him, but the way he was nearing her made her want to trot away as fast as she could.

But damn it all if she didn't need someone like him to see her through this journey.

"I don't want to negotiate," Clegane warned with a growl, still moving forward. He was like a bull that was using its horns to keep the unwanted at bay.

"Is she a real Stark, as in the sister to Sansa Stark?" Lana pressed with wide eyes, turning her horse around to face them better after backing off.

"You know her?" Arya asked, coming forward.

" _One_ more word, and I will knock you out," Clegane growled, and Arya backed away. Lana couldn't leave this girl here. If this was truly Sansa's sister, then this entire situation was too large for Lana to just ride away from.

Plus, Clegane had shown restraint with Sansa. Surely he wouldn't hurt Lana if she posed no threat, which she currently didn't. 

Lana got off of her horse with her hands held up. "I do. I think she is still at King's Landing," she said, looking at Arya

Arya looked at Clegane, and then back to Lana, pressing her lips together.

Clegane took a step toward Lana. "If you think I won't kill you, then you haven't been paying attention to who I am," Clegane warned.

"I am not an enemy."

"You were a handmaid to Lady Hornley, the betrothed to Tommen fucking Baratheon. And now you are out here, wandering around on a fresh horse, clean hair and clothes. Now you're _off_ your horse," he said, taking a step closer. "Stark girl has been needing a horse," he said. 

"I ran from Lady Hornley. The thought of having to serve the Lannisters for the rest of my life made me want to bash my skull in," she said, concocting a story, his mercenary eyes narrowing just slightly. "I ran into some trouble, which brought me out here, and I recently bathed in a river, cleaned my clothes, and stole this horse. You kill me, and you will miss out on a very hefty bag of gold."

"Don't need your gold. That's what the Stark girl is for."

 _He hasn't killed me yet. Come on, Lana. Think of a way in. He doesn't want to kill you._ "You really going to say no to more gold?"

"Where you getting it from?"

She swallowed thickly, looking at this man that towered over her and could probably cut clean through her. She couldn't tell him that she had a bounty on her head, or else he'd probably take it for himself.

"I have money back in Essos. A lot of it."

Her horse moved behind her, and his eyes darted to it, then back to her, then back to her horse with more stringency.

"There is Lannister weapons in your bag, and a Lannister flaggon." He looked at her, pressing his lips together. "You're a fucking liar." He took a step closer, and her heart hammered, as his steps were a lot larger than she initially gauged.

This is what desperation for a guard got her, and the thought that she could trust him. Now she was off her horse, and he'd catch her before she got to any of her weapons. This man was _not_ the soldiers she killed.

She couldn't believe she was debating how to kill him, but here she was. And yet, the way he neared her made her truly fear for her life.

She reached for her blade, but he was large, and fast.

With her blade just barely in hand, the last thing that she remembered was the harshness in his eyes as he backhanded her so hard, the blackness consumed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how you're enjoying it!! It means everything to me and it makes me work twice as hard! (As much as I hate to admit that DX)


	9. You're an Assassin like I am a Seamstress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, this is a long one! But it's a pretty solid scene, just with a lot of dialogue and character building. It's a super fun one, as I loved Arya and Clegane in the show, and this basically builds off of that. I hope you enjoy! :D

When Lana came to, she felt a familiar binding around her arms that was rough and tight.

"Fucking. _Whore_ ," she said aloud before opening her eyes. Her head hurt something fierce, and she finally looked down to see that it was rope that bound her. It stretched from her shoulders down to her forearms.

"You snagged good wine," Clegane said and she slowly moved her gaze to him, squinting through the pain in her head. He took a small swig of it before corking it.

They were at a small fire in an area she didn't recognize, deep in some kind of woods. Once again her captivity was surrounded by lovely forestry, with the sound of leaves brushing against each other in the wind and birds chirping. All it was missing was a nearby stream.

She could also do without being bound and captive again. But apparently that was too much to ask for in this life.

"Sorry about all of this," Arya said to her, and Lana eyed the wolf girl who was eating bread that Lana stole.

"Why did you knock me out?" she asked, looking to Clegane, ignoring the girl for the moment.

"There is a bounty on your head," he said, not looking at her as he ate his own portion of bread. Lana tensed up at those words, furrowing her brow, completely confused. "How did you know? I just found out."

"Word travels faster than you think around here."

Lana glared at the Hound, who ignored her. Like always. "Are you really taking me for the bounty?"

"Heard it was fifty golden dragons," he said, finally looking at her with a smugness that she found both amusing, and unnerving. She clearly didn't know him well enough. What if he was serious about collecting the bounty on her?

"Thought you told the king to fuck off," she asked.

"Good thing I got a lot of time to figure out what to do with you," he said, eating more bread.

"Do I _have_ to be bound?"

"You tried to stab me with a nice blade. Might have gone through my armor, or given me an annoying scratch."

"Please?" she asked, trying for the little empathy that she knew he had.

When he looked at her, she saw that he gave about two shits about her predicament. "The more you ask, the longer I will keep you bound."

She was half tempted to stand up and headbutt him out of complete frustration. She couldn't _believe_ that she had once been fascinated by this man. Here she was, absolutely not a threat, and yet he was treating her like she was a Faceless herself. Lana forgave No One, as she really was just doing her job. But a second time being captured? Bound and heading for an unknown location? It was already growing old.

"Why is there a bounty on your head?" Arya asked.

Lana yawned, her eyes watering, looking around to see if she could gauge the time of day while she wondered how to answer Arya. The sun was still out, but it seemed to be nestling closer to the horizon now. "I killed someone," Lana said indifferently.

Clegane chimed in, nodding his head at Lana as he spoke to Arya. "Bounty was for killing Lady Hornley. This one here was her handmaid. And she wonders why I don't trust her."

"What's your name?" Arya asked.

"Lana."

Arya leaned over, a morbid fascination about her. Then she asked, "So, Lana, did you really kill Lady Hornley?"

"Yes, I did."

"What for?"

"Was paid to do so," Lana said, figuring it couldn't hurt anymore.

"Why?"

Lana sighed, looking at the flames. She hated looking in them for guidance from R'hllor, but she wondered, if at some point, it would behoove her to do so. According to Sedona, the Lord of Light wanted Lana to aid Daenerys, although wouldn't mention how. And here Lana was, three months late, bound for a second time and far from where she needed to be. She sighed. Something told her to be honest with both of them, and she glanced back up to Arya. "I am an assassin," she said.

Clegane snickered, not looking at her as he cleaned his nails with a small knife. "An assassin?"

Lana tensed. There was something to him not believing her that she didn't like. "Yes. The fact that you are in disbelief is _why_ I am one. People underestimate me."

"You're an assassin like I am a seamstress," Clegane said, a genuine smile on his face, amused by his own joke.

Lana slowly broke into a smile. That was actually funny. "Would pay a lot of money to see you sew a dress," she teased, seeing as he was now being humorous. Maybe that was a way in to gaining his favor?

He glared at her and his amusement completely vanished. "Already knocked you out once. Happy to do it again." _I just don't get this fucker._

"Are you really an assassin?" Arya asked, interrupting the awkward tension.

Lana looked back at the girl. "I was. Lady Hornley was my last mission."

"How'd you kill her?" Arya asked, not skipping a beat.

"Poison."

Clegane laughed even harder. "Of fucking course. Such a woman's weapon."

Arya ignored Clegane. "Have you killed innocent people?" 

"I personally didn't have the heart to do some jobs. There's always those willing to do whatever job. I took the ones that had some justification for them. I never killed anyone that went against my own morals, which is mostly small children."

"I want to learn to be a killer," Arya said.

"It's the opposite of a lady's life. You meet the nastiest of people," Lana cautioned, not sure where Arya's fascination for being an assassin came from.

"I think I could do it. If I can be around him, I can be around anyone," Arya said, glancing to Clegane, who took another swig of wine.

"Oh I've lived around men much worse than him," Lana said, catching that Clegane glanced in her direction.

"Liar," Arya said.

"The fact that you're alive, clothed and fed, tells me he is a lot better than some men that I have met," Lana said.

Arya grew ardent. "He's only doing it for the money. Plans to ransom me at the Twins to my family, _during a wedding_. He was mean to me when I had a cold. Told me to shut up, even though my head hurt, and so did my throat. He's not nice."

"I'm not saying he is a fairy princess, but on a scale of one to ten, when one is needlessly horrendous, and ten is his shit smells like roses," Lana said, contorting her face to show she was thinking. In her mind, he got a point for every time he helped Sansa. "I'd say he's about a solid three."

Arya snickered. "Yeah because his shit does _not_ smell like roses."

Lana genuinely chuckled, trying to stifle it, and glanced to Clegane who stopped cleaning the dirt from is nails to glare at both of them. "I am about to cut one of your tongues out if you continue this yapping," he warned. Arya leaned back, looking to the fire, a smirk still on her face.

Lana was surprised that Arya ceased at his warning. What gave it away that he was serious about his threat? Clearly she had missed something, as she didn't take it seriously. It was starting to annoy her. If she couldn't figure him out, then how the fuck was she to gain his trust? She now relied on him trusting her to free her from these ropes, and if she got lucky, to get her to Essos. Lana stared at Arya. If the little wolf girl managed to be unbound, then clearly she had gained some form of his trust as well. Which meant that befriending Arya would be a useful alliance. He seemed to have a weakness for the Stark girls that Lana didn't understand at all.

Clegane pulled out his longsword from the sheath, got a whetstone, and began to sharpen it as the sky grew duller in brightness and more vibrant in color. The sound of metal singing became a small melody as Arya looked at a coin, that after a time, Lana recognized as one made of iron. Arya turned it in her hands, practicing flipping it. _Seems she did come across the Faceless. Maybe that's where she heard the mantra. I wonder if she knows what that really is_

Lana decided not to ask Arya about the coin, at least not yet. She wanted to know the girl better before divulging too much information. So, in her boredom, Lana periodically glanced over at Clegane, watching him sharpen his blade. Eventually, she started taking in his features. She kept noticing his hands, which were large and rugged, and yet nimble with his weapon. Lana thought back to Kari and quickly found herself thinking of the Hound in a different way.

She thought it rather curious that without the burn, Clegane might be regarded as somewhat handsome by many. But the burned flesh clearly scarred more than his face, and many women in this world did not handle such a coarse man well. _I bet there's some deep issues with that in him._

He glared at her when she stared for too long. "The fuck you staring for?"

"Wondering if you're really going to sell me to the Lannisters," she said, pulling it from thin air.

"Don't know, but it's not going to hurt you to keep you bound for now. Now quit staring, or I'll blind you too."

She looked away, her heart beating just a little faster. He made her nervous. She didn't understand him at all, and that was dangerous. He already smacked her head once, so she knew he was not above hurting her. 

"Sorry you have to be stuck with him," Arya said. "He's a real shit."

Lana chuckled, staring at Arya, thinking that over. Lana feared the man, but she didn't hate him. "Why do you hate him so much?" she asked.

Arya huffed. "It isn't obvious?"

Lana tried to shrug her shoulder, but it didn't work. "He's rude, I won't deny it, but I don't hate him. At least not yet. Hate is a very powerful emotion," Lana said.

"He kidnapped you," Arya said, incredulous.

"I have a bounty on my head. It's the nature of my work. Lost a few friends to bounties myself. This is literally my second kidnapping in three months, and I didn't hate that person either," Lana said. She saw Clegane glance at her through her peripheral.

"Yeah, well, he's a murderer," Arya said.

"So am I," Lana said coldly.

"Yes, but he killed my friend Mycah. A _boy_ ," Arya said with fervent eyes. "At least you have morals against that."

"What for?" Lana slowly asked, moving only her eyes to Clegane.

"Joffrey's orders," Clegane finally chimed in, not looking at either of them as he swiped his gigantic sword with one stroke, the sword singing loudly.

"Doesn't matter. You should have denied them," Arya said.

"And get my head chopped off? Did you learn nothing about your daddy getting his neck snipped? Fuck off with that shit. Your butcher's boy shouldn't have been playing swords with a lady of Winterfell. Once Joffrey got involved, he was a dead boy running, no matter who came for him."

Arya picked up a large rock, aiming it at him. Clegane's eyes hardened. "I'm sharpening my fucking sword, and you want to throw a rock at me. Go on. Throw it. Let's see if you're as dull as the butcher's boy. Maybe I _will_ kill you so you can see your little friend again."

Arya seethed, took a step towards him, but he didn't move. Lana panted, her eyes wide as she watched them. Then Arya threw the rock at the woods, hitting the ground with a dull thud. "See? He is awful. I hate him," Arya said to Lana as she squatted back in her area, stabbing the ground with sticks.

"Well, if it's true that it was Joffrey who ordered it, there's not much he could have done, " Lana said softly, to which Arya threw a hot glare at her, and then Lana finished with, "Can't defend his attitude though. He's got the manners of a donkey's ass."

"Are you really defending him at all?" Arya asked, not even smiling in the least at the joke.

"I grew up around a lot of poverty, where people kill for anything. All the time. Children, women, old people, all of it. If you were strong enough to fight, then you did the dirty work of those that paid you well. It's survival."

"It's wrong."

Lana opened her mouth to retort, but closed it. The passion in Arya's eyes told Lana that this was not an opinion that would change overnight. Lana still needed Arya's approval to keep her alive, if she failed with Clegane. She lightly nodded, and Arya continue to direct her anger at the ground.

They relaxed into the night as they all leaned on something, whether it be a rock or one of their bags, and the stars eventually started to shine through the leaves. Arya had helped Lana to relieve herself in the woods for the night, which was completely demeaning. As they walked, the sound of rocks and twigs breaking underfoot filled in the silence between them. She walked past Clegane who came up to her chest while sitting on his rock. Walking by such a hefty, unreadable, threatening man ignited her nerves.

She was still in dangerous waters. He could sell her at any point for a bounty, or just kill her and be done with it.

Even with that knowledge, it didn't stop her from making her next plea. She really hated that the Stark girl had to help her with her dressings. Lana leaned against her stump after sitting down and said softly to Clegane, "You can unbind the rope, and just tie my hands. This is ridiculous."

"You managed."

"At least untie it whenever I have to relieve myself. Give the girl a blade. She can stab me if I try to run."

"Don't want to untie the ropes every time."

"I can do it," Arya said, vouching for Lana. "It's not fair for her."

"So you can cut her ropes and take off with her? Fat chance."

Lana laughed, imaging running through the woods with Arya. Unless Arya knew the lands, they'd be lost by sundown.

"Why you laughing?" Clegane asked, his patience visibly thin.

"I am shit with directions. Even _if_ Arya and I managed to run away, I'd probably wind up taking us to the Iron Islands, or Dorne."

He sighed. "When the wolf girl is given back to her family, I'll untie the damned rope and keep your wrists bound. But for now, you stay bound."

Lana looked up at the leaves that were gently reflecting the orange of the fire, curtly sighing through her nose. She was struggling to get through to him. "I am willing to forgive all of this, you know. I would do the same if I were your shoes. My offer still stands. Get the Stark girl to her family, and then help me get back to Essos. Unbound. If you agree to get me to Essos safely, I will pay you, and even extend the job offer to a permanent position. Like I said, I _was_ an assassin. I am moving on in the world," she said, desperate to be freed.

Then again, the more she said it, the more she realized having someone as capable and apathetic as him would be incredibly useful. He was like an unsullied, but with a shit attitude, and still had his dick. As soon as she thought of that, her cheeks began to warm, and she tried to forget ever picturing that. The last thing that she needed was to develop _any_ attraction towards him.

"Go ahead. Tell me whatever it is you're keeping a secret, and I will consider it."

Her muscles tensed as she frowned, his statement pulling her from her thougths. "I've got no secret."

"You really think I didn't learn a thing or two about keeping secrets while being around the Lannisters all my life? Everyone thinks they're so smart, but it's easy to sniff out. You keep mentioning your pile of money, but won't say how you got it. Why should I trust you if you won't even tell me that much? If you haven't mentioned it, then that means you're hiding how you got it. _If_ you have it at all."

She glanced between him and the fire a few times. She ran her tongue on the backside of her teeth as she considered this. She looked back to him, his hostile eyes revealing a keenness that she underestimated. That was always dangerous, and getting herself strung in a web of lies would only hurt her with someone like him. It oddly made her respect him more. "I am the bastard of Aerys Targeryen. The king before Robert," she said with an unblinking gaze.

His eyes barely flinched, the rest of his face not budging in expression. That only deepened her curiosity further.

"He had a bastard?" Arya asked skepticism, and Lana looked to the Stark girl.

"Don't know if he had more than me, but aye, I am his daughter."

"Would explain the coloring of your eyes and hair," Clegane said. "But you can't prove it."

"My sister is Daenerys Targeryen in Meereen. The dragon queen. After this mission, I am to return to her, and Dany is to make me a Lady of Dragonstone, when she finally sails for here. Already got Barriston Selmy at her side. He confirmed my story, and can confirm it for you as well."

"Ser Barriston?" Clegane asked, snorting. "Cersei didn't think that one through. Dumb bitch."

He stood up and re-sheathed his sword. Lana was going to retort, but the way he suddenly towered over her, handily wielding a blade that Lana would struggle to lift even with two hands, rendered her slightly speechless. When his sword was back in its sheath, he looked down at her. "You realize that means you're worth even _more_ to the Lannisters? You killed the betrothed to Tommen, got a bounty on your head, and you're a bastard of the dragons. Even though the blonde cunts of Cersei are probably bastards themselves, you've got more claim to throne than them. Bet if I turned you in, they'd forget I ever left them in the first place. Maybe even knight me, although I'd deny it."

The same impatience that she had for Lord Morton returned, as she had no interest in squabbling about the potential of who she was. Someone either respected it, or they didn't. She looked up at him, letting go of any fear that she had of him. "If you seriously take me to the Lannisters, I'll make sure to annoy you so greatly that you have no option but to either free me, or bash my skull in and leave me for the vultures. I am _not_ going to them, and I am not afraid of death."

He looked her over a few times before he said, "I got a lot of discipline and patience for gold. I know what kind of life awaits me with the Lannisters if I went back to them, but I don't know a thing about your supposed family in Essos. So shut the fuck up about it until we drop off the wolf girl. However much they pay me depends on how serious you and I talk."

He stared her down, and she finally looked at the fire, letting it go. He knew everything now, and it would be up to him as to what he decided. Although, Lana wouldn't stop trying to understand the Hound, or gain his favor. She still didn't know what Sansa had done to earn his more gentle moments, and the longer Lana was around him, the more she wanted to find out.

If Lana could figure him out, then not only would she make it of this out alive, but she could have a new guard at her side. One that many would fear. There was a lot of strategy in having him as her fighter.

Lana settled down onto the ground, wishing now more than ever that she had her arms freed. She lied on her back, as that the only comfortable position. Despite her predicament, she slept relatively well. She chalked it up to Clegane being near, his presence threatening to any. The night came and went relatively fast, and before she knew it, she sat up with dew all over her rope. When Lana and Arya came back from relieving themselves in the woods, Clegane was standing by Lana's horse. He motioned for her.

"Put your foot in the stirrup. I'll do the rest," he commanded with little interest. The soft glow of morning gently lit everything around, his armor softly glistening as dew was on it as well.

She glared at him, needing to look up just to see his face, which showed nothing but disregard. She ignored that she liked to look at him from this angle. "This is silly," she said. "The ropes, I mean. This is making things much more complicated."

"Get the fuck over it," he said, his eyes completely unmerciful. He got behind her and placed his hands on her hips. He was nearly double her size and weight, and she quickly found balance in his hands as she put her left foot in the stirrup.

When he tightened his grip on her hips to prop her up with ease, her right leg swinging over the horse, she grit her teeth as an unexpected wave of hormonal fever flooded her. He put a hand on her back to aid her as she found a balance while settling into her saddle.

Lana didn't look at him, not after what she just felt. Clearly Kari's words had an unintended impact on Lana, as she could only think of one thing about him gripping her body like that. It also made her realize that he could have fucked her plenty by now, and he didn't. She took note of that. _So there is some honor in there, after all._

When she seemed settled into her horse, Clegane brought the reigns to her hands, helping her grip them as she could hardly move.

"If you try to ride off, I'll catch you, then gag you, and blindfold you. Make it hard on me, and I'll break your feet too," he said, the grim truth of his personality evident in his tone.

"I can't catch myself if I fall like this," she said softly, a genuine fear of hers, still avoiding his gaze. 

"Then don't fall," he said. He walked away, got on Stranger, and then helped Arya up.

They rode forward and Lana kept her eyes on the back of him, despite knowing she needed to distance herself from him. She wondered what would actually happen if she took off. Would he really catch her? Then again, she couldn't ride the horse at any real speed without the use of her arms.

Either way, it was not worth risking. Not yet.

If this all worked out and she was set free, found her way to Essos, and secured the Hound as a bodyguard, then playing along for a little bit longer would be worthit.

She just wondered what in seven hells it would take to gain his trust.

**Thank you so much to everyone who commented and gave a kudos! It got me excited enough that I had to post another chapter!! Sandor is being stubborn, isn't he? It gets so much fun when he finally gives ;D**


	10. Being Tied to a Tree

They traveled for a few more days without much incident. Not much was said, and that seemed about right. Arya wanted nothing more than to make it to her family, and Clegane wasn't much of a talker. Lana still didn't understand the Hound, and she knew that wasn't a good thing. She rarely met people she didn't understand, which meant she had no real course of action here. Whatever happened would be out of her control, and that frustrated her as much as getting an itch and not being able to scratch it, because one's arms were bound by fucking rope.

When they stopped for a rest, he helped Lana off as usual, grabbing her hips like he always did. The tingling vibration in her body always grew stronger. His hands were large enough, and her body small enough, that he always got a _good_ grip on her. 

This time, as he put her down, he said, "You and the Stark bitch can complain all you want about my attitude, but you're lucky, in truth, that you got stuck with me."

"Oh, do enlighten me," she said with sarcasm as she stretched her legs.

"Most men would have raped a pretty little thing like you by now. More than once. Every morning and night, I reckon," he said with a grisly tone.

She slowly turned around, noting the darkness in his eyes as he tightened her saddle, looking her up and down, nearly challenging her. Perhaps trying to scare her? Either way, she was certain she was not the only one to think carnal thoughts when he touched her.

"You're right," she said, not terrified of that about him. She just didn't see him doing something like that, not after saving Sansa from rape herself. And he hadn't touched Arya, or Lana, this whole time. "That's why I want you to help me, and serve at my side. You are brutal, Sandor Clegane, but you're not cruel," she said, using Kari's line.

_Maybe that'll fucking work._

She turned around, but not before noticing the way he gently raised his head, truly considering what she said. She sighed with relief, hoping that that was a step in the right direction. She needed it, as her arms were starting to ache.

As she walked around, it clearly took a moment for his words to sink in. He was right. So many men would have raped her by now. She was tied up and weak. It would be easy. Clegane didn't realize how much Lana respected him for not indulging in that violation. She felt a bit silly, but her major fear of being in Westeros, by herself, was rape more than physical harm. She had many scars, rendering her body no stranger to pain. Despite that, she had managed her entire life with her virtue in tact.

If it were up to her, she would have lost her maidenhead by now. Her master for the Crimson Company was fervent that she keep her virtue, insisting that men and women could sense it, even if they didn't know it. People in their world seemed to trust virgins, and the Crimson Company was never above taking advantage of human nature. And although it meant a lot to Lana's master, it didn't mean much to her. She already felt like she wasn't one, and had used her hands and mouth plenty of times. That didn't mean she wanted to lose it to a rapist.

After they stretched their legs and relieved themselves, Lana stood next to Clemmy, attempting to rub the horse's powerful thighs with her hands that could barely move.

The Hound returned to her and she went through the motions of her foot in the stirrups, her body leaning into his, and his hands back on her. At least she saw Clegane having to touch her every day as a bright side to all of this. Lana did not indulge much in romantic affection, only having done so once in her life. That man was similar to Clegane - mean, rugged, and emotionally layered like an onion.

Lana didn't really quite remember how it happened, but one day it just changed. The man grew softer when around Lana, and before she knew it, they were engaged in a romantic throw. He was of the Crimson Company, so he respected their wish of keeping her virtue in tact. _Gods_ , how many nights she wanted him to ravish her.

Then he died. Just like that. One day he was there, and the next he was gone. It took her an entire year to recover from that loss.

Most people in her profession didn't live to an old age. It was her primary motivation for trying to establish another life.

So far she was off to a rough fucking start.

When Clegane was back on his warhorse and kicked Stranger to move, Lana kicked Clemmy. They rode in the warm sun, although the breeze was chilly. It was the only time she was really grateful for the ropes, as they helped keep her core warm.

They finally had come across an old man pulling a carriage full of of fresh pork for the wedding. Lana watched on while Clegane nearly killed the man, only to be countered by Arya, who was insistent on protecting the stranger. Lana saw both sides, but was still amused that Clegane let a little girl push him around. They eventually agreed to just knock him out, stealing the cart. They would use it as cover to get safely into the wedding. The sun was pushing past midday when Lana was riding next to Arya and Clegane, with Stranger now pulling the cart, leaving the donkey behind.

"You will like my brother, and mother," Arya said to Lana as she rode next to her, and the purity in her voice striking something deep and sad inside of Lana. It reminded her this was just a little girl, happy to go home.

"She won't be meeting them," Clegane said.

"What? Why?" Arya asked, truly pained.

"I am not bringing a Targeryen bastard to your brother. He's a king too, in his own mind, and won't just let her go. I still need a line of work after this. Once you're gone, I'll see how honest Lana is about her heritage."

Lana got a pleasant and nervous surge of energy at the thought. They'd be alone, and him having his way with her would be easier. And as fun as the idea was to have Clegane's hands back on her, she quickly imagined him as no better than other rapers she knew. What if she had misjudged him, again? What if he was only behaving in any form of respect because of Arya?

"No, my brother is a good man. He might be able to get her home. He won't be a threat. I swear it."

"Don't make promises you have no ability to keep, girl," Clegane cautioned.

"But I want you to meet my family," Arya pressed, looking to Lana. That touched Lana, and she was surprised how much those words meant to her. It gave her a small sense of belonging, which was something she rarely experienced in her life.

"What am I going to do while you deliver Arya, Clegane?" Lana asked.

"Tie you to a tree until I get back."

She smirked, then looked at him, and saw he was being serious. She let out a sigh of disappointment. "And if you don't come back?" she asked with incredulity. 

"I'm sure someone will eventually find you," he said with his own dark humor.

"That really warms the heart," Lana said with defeat. To her surprise, Clegane actually lightly chuckled.

"Shouldn't be a problem if he abandons you," Arya said with confidence, comforting Lana. "Once we go in, I will have some Stark bannermen come get you on the morrow."

"You will not. She is _my_ captive, not yours," Clegane said. 

"We'll be back for you, don't worry," Arya said, sounding like a child again, with such fervor in her voice, as if she was certain of the outcome. _If only outcomes could be certain_. "I understand you could nervous about being a Targeryen bastard too, with my brother being a king in the north and all. I would be too. But my brother is a reasonable man. My father raised him, afterall. Can't say what happened to Sansa, though," she said with a pep in her voice, making jokes again.

Clegane sneered. "What happened to your sister is a big wad of hormones and ignorance. If she survives Joffrey, she will be smarter for it."

"Yeah, well, I will kill Joffrey and free Sansa one day. When I learn to kill. The lion is nothing compared to the wolf," Arya said.

"You might have a chance if it's just Ser Meryn guarding him."

To Lana's furthered surprise, Arya actually laughed. It was the first time she had really seen them banter with little animosity. Lana was happy for Arya. She was happy she would get to return to her family. As the towers of the Twins came into view, gentle puffs of smoke coming from the grounds, Clegane stopped the carriage and made Arya get off. "Don't need you riding off without me."

He walked towards Lana, his heavy armor clinking. "You really don't have to tie me to a fucking tree," she said with a slight panic. She didn't know if he was serious or not. 

"You have a bounty for fifty gold dragons, and are the bastard to the Targeryen king. I am definitely tying you to a fucking tree."

"I'll just tell them where she is," Arya interjected.

"Good idea. And see what they do with her. You really think they'll just give her a ship to Essos? Maybe a barrel of wine for her comfort?" Clegane asked, looking at Arya. "The northerners hate the Targeryens, for what they did to your grandfather."

Her face contorted with confusion. "They do?"

"Tell them she's here, and you'll find out."

"I don't want to be tied a tree," Lana repeated, the thought horrifying to her. A cell was one thing. There was a guard, and someone to feed her. Out here, it could be weeks before someone found her. She gripped the reigns, ready to ride for the Twins, as Stranger was tied to a wagon. It might give her the advantage she needed. _Maybe I can brokerage myself. Promise them whatever the fuck they want if they don't kill me._

Clegane was quick, and grabbed her hands, his grip hurting her. "I'll stab your horse right now if you don't get off," he threatened. She panted and eyed his stubbled face, his brown eyes severe.

She let go of the reigns, but she didn't move.

"For fuck's sake," he said and grabbed her, wrapping an arm around her roped body. She writhed in his grasp, but without her arms, she quickly fell off the horse, and he easily caught her, tossing her over his shoulder, his hand holding her firm just above her ass.

"You do realize, if I hire you, this is the _opposite_ of what a guard does!" she yelled, and he laughed. His laugh always caught her by surprise, even when slung over his shoulder.

"I am guarding my investment. Until I decide to work for you, my needs come first."

"Please don't tie me to a tree," she pleaded, wondering if trying from that angle would work again. She didn't have to fake the torment in her voice this time.

She was so tired of being a prisoner.

He put her down next to a large tree and as soon as her feet hit the ground, she tried to run for it. He dropped the rope he had and grabbed her by the waist, holding her close to his body. While a part of her welcomed the contact, every inch of her that didn't want to be abandoned fought back. "I will knock you in head again if I have to," he warned, and she could feel the rasp in his voice through his armor.

She ran her legs up the tree and pushed with all of her might, the only option she really had.

But he was nearly a tree himself, and he hardly moved.

He scoffed at her. "Gotta hand it to you, you know some neat tricks."

He let go of her, and just as she realized her freedom, something smacked her in the head, and she was out.

°°°

She woke up to being tied to a fucking tree.

"The _audactiy_ of him," she said to herself.

After examining her situation, she realized it was futile. She was tied to a tree, and the rope was taught. She had no means of escaping this, while sitting there, against a tree.

Her heart pounded as she thrashed around like an animal that had been caught, but still had to exercise its instinct to fight. Once that tired her, she rested her head on the bark, staring out into the distance. After a while, she was finally able to calm herself. Arya was good enough of a person to speak out if needed, and Lana doubted Clegane would just leave her here after all he went through to collect her.

_Someone_ would come for her, she was sure of it.

Didn't mean she had to like this.

She kept her eyes out on the hill where she hoped to see Clegane riding towards her, watching the smoke of the castle gently greet the sky. The thought of him coming back without Arya created a whirlwind of emotions. First, she was excited to think about being alone with Clegane, despite all of this. She knew there was a tenderness in there, even if it was buried deep down. And she wanted to dig it out, just for the sheer audacity of it by this point. But the thought of not seeing Arya truly gripped her, shocking her at how sad that made her. Plus, who would vouch for Lana now? Fear was quick to follow, as if Lana was never able to crack the mystery that was Clegane, then what exactly would happen to her? What if he just plain didn't like her? What if this was all pointless? Would he really take her to the Lannisters?

Maybe she'd have to use her body to get him to let his guard down. She could use her virginity as an offer, as men seemed to like that kind of thing. She wasn't above that in the slightest, not if it meant getting to Meereen alive. It really meant nothing to her at this point, other than a small pride.

As she was ruminating while sitting under the shade of the large tree, a man on a horse rode by. Lana tensed, afraid of who it was. She was in no position to defend herself, and if it _was_ a raper, she was going to be thoroughly pissed.

Lana's eyes widened when she saw it was actually the elderly man with the pig cart, riding on his donkey.

"You!" he yelled at her. "I saw you from before! Did he tie you to a tree?" he asked and got down, moving quickly to her with what little speed he had.

"Aye, he did."

"What for?" he asked and walked over, pulling out a blade and kneeling to cut the rope.

"Some men are atrocious, and like to keep women for certain things," she lied, playing into the vulnerability. The look in his eye told her he was a good person. And he was old. He wouldn't be a threat to her.

"And the other girl? The one that hit me again?" he asked, cutting the final rope that bound her to the tree.

"She was Arya Stark, and he was ransoming her. Using me at night to keep him happy," she said with a sullen, broken tone.

"Arya Stark?" he asked with wide, green eyes, cutting through the rope around her arms. The sigh she let out was genuine, her elbows aching as she moved them.

"I really hope this doesn't make you regret helping people," she said, giving him the most sincere gaze that she could. "You're a good man, and one day, when a silverhaired woman sits the iron throne, come to it, and I will see that you are paid in twenty pigs," she said, and he furrowed his brow.

She slammed her head into his, knocking him over. She grabbed the blade in his hand as he groaned, stumbling as she got to her feet from the collision. She didn't hit him too hard, as her head could barely handle itself. But it was enough to steal from him.

"Fucking whore!" he yelled out.

She ran to Clemmy, cut the rope that bound her to another tree, and mounted her. Lana rode off into the direction of the Twins, his dagger in hand.

°°°

**It's about to get really fun from here :D**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh thank you to the people that commented last chapter. It got me so pumped that I wanted to get this out for you guys!! Words of encouragement are the best motivator, especially with fanfiction. So thank you, so much. The story really starts from here :D


	11. Riding as a Free Woman

It nearly felt wrong to have the use of her arms again, like they were two lanky objects that just got in the way. But the longer she was on her horse, the more she remembered how to use them.

Lana halted Clemmy once the bridge of the Twins was in view. She could see why Clegane stole the cart of pork, as the gate across the river was closed and heavily guarded. It didn't matter for Lana, however. She was in no rush, and just happy to be freed. She had time to think out here, and she needed to weigh her options carefully. 

She eventually came to the realization that if all else failed, Lana could choose to appeal to the Starks. They were rebelling against the crown, and an enemy of one's enemy was a friend. 

The other thing Lana came to accept was that she couldn't survive these lands with a bounty on her head. She needed to travel the main roads in order to stay on course, and if traveling alone, those were roads she needed to avoid. In order to take them, she _needed_ another to escort her. It was just too much of a risk otherwise. If she ever came across actual soldiers, who had the skill of Clegane, then she was utterly fucked. She'd lose to a fight with him even if he were sleeping.

Eventually, the sun began to set on the horizon, and she felt the need to make a decision. She didn't quite know what she was waiting for. Perhaps to see if Clegane had made it? She didn't want to make any moves until she knew what he was doing. She looked around, going over her options again. _Clegane, Starks, going on my own._ She didn't quite trust the Hound anymore. She just couldn't figure out his motives for anything, other than he obviously wanted gold. 

Lana straightened her back and narrowed her eyes as she thought she heard the sound of fighting. Surely, she was mishearing things. Then she heard bloodcurdling screams, and then the sound of steel on steel. _A small brawl, perhaps? Dothraki fight at weddings._

Then fire was set to the camps.

"Holy shit," she said, her body tensing, the muscles in her face tightening as she scanned the field with the best of her ability, although she was still far away, and the sun was setting. It was unfolding into complete chaos below, and she couldn't tell who started it, and who was winning.

_What happened?_

Then she saw a Frey flag riding away from the fight, wondering if he was leading the men somewhere else. But none followed, and he made his way through the crowd with ease. Lana realized it must be the Frey's that were causing the fight, or at least winning, otherwise that man would have been struck down. Once he was mostly out of site, the flag was dropped.

_Black horse. Large man. Little figure on the horse._

Arya. What was Clegane doing, riding away with Arya? There was no way Lana wouldn't pursue.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

Lana bent her knees and pushed herself up to allow the horse an easier jog, her body moving with the horse, each stamp of its hooves reverberating into her. The sound of fighting and metal clashing grew louder, and sure enough, there was a fucking battle going on, spilling out over the bridge as men tried to flee, but were pursued.

Lana moved her way through fighting men, feeling something hit the side of her hip, but she didn't bother to look. As she neared Clegane and Arya, she saw a Frey moving in the Hound's direction with a sword ready to chop the duo down. Lana drew the dagger she stole, got as close as she could while Clegane took out his sword, although with Arya against his chest, he was in no position to parry. The girl could get hurt. _Why is Arya not moving?_

Lana threw the dagger as hard as she could, aiming just in front the man, so by the time it reached with the speed he was going, it should hit him square in the side of his head. And it landed. The man fell off his horse while his steed ran into the battle without his rider. Clegane looked over at her, a tenacity filling his gaze that disappeared when he saw her. "The fuck you doing!"

"Helping her!" she yelled, nodding at Arya.

Without skipping a beat, he rode ahead and shouted, "Then let's go!"

They rode for a long time, the night growing darker and colder, and at some point, Lana saw that Arya was in fact awake. She was barely moving, her eyes sullen, and it made Lana desperately worry as to what had happened. She didn't ask anything, however, as clearly the battle that had broken out that was not in their favor.

When they were in the clear, unable to hear the battle, Lana slowed her horse and looked at Clegane. She could ride away right now, and he couldn't stop her. Not with Arya in front of him, and Lana's hands unbound. Lana's gaze fell to Arya, and she grit her teeth as she realized couldn't abandon her. Clegane rode over to Lana, and their eyes locked, the moon just barely illuminating his face. "How the fuck did you escape?"

"The man with the pig found me. Stole his dagger. You were right about killing him, apparently. Although it worked for me."

"You know you can go now, and I can't stop you?" he asked, his expression weary, and she realized whatever they saw must have been grave. 

She looked to the girl, who was slumped over, barely blinking, and leaning against Clegane. There was no way, in seven hells, Lana was going to abandon her. Arya _never_ leaned against Clegane. "You going to tie me to a tree again?" she asked and glared at Clegane, his armor glinting in the moonlight, Stranger smacking his hooves into the ground. 

The corner of his mouth jerked, and he looked away, mouth agape as he tried to stifle a laugh. "No," he said and kicked Stranger.

Lana didn't say anything and watched him ride ahead.

Well, what did she do now? Did she really follow her captor? Then again, he never treated her like a true prisoner, and rather like someone he didn't trust. 

This was her chance to flee. And instead of acting on it, she just sat there, watching him ride ahead, little pools of water on the road shining brightly against the dark of night. She could leave, right now, and be free of him. _And go where?_ She had no idea how to navigate anything here, even with a main road. And she couldn't abandon the girl, not yet. 

So, she kicked her horse and followed him. They traveled in silence, stopping eventually when they no longer saw the smoke of the Twins. She was starting to notice a pain in her side, and the pain in her head grew worse, the world starting to spin around her. Clegane got off his horse while Lana remained on hers, feeling like she might pass out.

The Hound placed Arya against a rock, and she was like a rag doll, just staying where she lied. He was surprisingly gentle about it. Lana tried to move her legs, but she felt her body draining, and as soon as she moved her right leg, the dizziness was overwhelming.

She was starting to wonder if she was bleeding out, and wasn't aware of it. It happened sometimes when adrenaline dulled the senses. 

If it were true, then that wasn't good. Even if there _was_ a body nearby, blood magic had its rules, and if she tried to use it again, it could potentially kill her. Sedona had told her that when pulling from another, the user has to use their own lifeforce. And like losing blood, one's lifeforce had to replenish. Hers was weak. She could feel it. If it was more than a flesh wound, she didn't know what would happen to her.

"Lana," Arya said with concern, although her tone was still rather dull. Clegane turned around and Lana glanced in his direction, feeling her balance starting to take her. The more she tried to regain it, the more she felt like she was going to fall. She tried to help herself down in a desperate attempt not to fall from her horse, but ultimately, she lost herself.

As she fell, Clegane grabbed her and eased her off. "I think I'm bleeding...and my head is dizzy," she said breathlessly. 

Clegane carried her over to a tree, to which she rested against. He looked at his hand after placing her down, which was covered in blood. He knelt down and lifted her shirt. She watched his face, his hair and armor gently shining in the dark. When he looked at her hip, his expression grew somber.

"That's a bad wound," he said.

She nodded. She could deal with that. A bad wound was better than silence, as silence usually meant it was lethal. She knew she had enough time to heal, but she needed a fire immediately. "It's alright. Build a fire. I'll close the wound up with it," he said.

"A fire?"

She gently rolled her eyes when she closed them, then as she opened them said, "Please?" She didn't want to explain it right now.

He stood back up, and to her surprise, he got busy with building one. Once the flames were strong enough, and the logs firmly caught with fire, she rose to go near it. As she stood, she stumbled, wondering if she had a minor concussion as well. Clegane grabbed her shoulder and helped her balance. _Fucking finally he just helps me._. She took off the metal belt around her waist and her tunic, leaving just the leather corset on underneath that stopped just above her belly button. It was used mostly to keep her breasts in place.

Arya watched on with curious eyes, although her usual charisma was gone.

Lana reached into the fire and grabbed a burning log, to which Clegane and Arya lurched forward. She forgot that they weren't used to seeing people touch fire without being burned. "It's alright, I don't burn. Dragon and all that," she said flippantly and held the flames to her side.

"For fuck's sake, really?" Clegane asked. "You're like those fire worshippers."

"Who worships fire?" she asked, wanting to laugh, but was too drained. 

"The brotherhood. They follow the lord of light."

"Oh, I do too," she said, pleasantly surprised to hear about R'hllor.

Clegane looked away. "'Course you do."

"Your wound is closing," Arya said.

Lana glanced down, and saw the blood crust and the skin suture. "Fire has always been able to heal me. My adoptive mother," she said, not knowing how to describe Sedona. "Taught me how to use it in my favor. Sometimes I can use blood magic too."

Lana put the log back down when the flame was dying and grabbed another. She repeated it until her wound was mostly cleansed. Sedona told her that long ago he had blessed Lana with that ability, and R'hllor let it remain. When she finished, she put the last log in, and she could feel the emptiness of her body sustaining such a blood loss. Clegane looked her over, his eyes landing on her stomach. "That other wound looks fresh. And lethal."

She looked down to the pink scar on her gut. "That's where the blood magic comes in. Nearly died just before I met you two," she said, looking at Clegane. His gaze hardened on her. "That's why I wanted you help guard me. I don't fare well against men in armor," she said, arms open, self-satisfied that he finally realized she was being honest all along.

For a moment, she saw something flash in eyes. It wasn't much, but there was something humane about it.

"And instead he smacked your head, twice, and tied you to a tree," Arya said grimly and rolled over on the ground, her back to them. Lana was about to ask just what happened, but she held her tongue. She'd ask Clegane when Arya went to wander. 

Lana lied down, not wanting to put her shirt back on, watching the clouds roll by as the moon gave them a soft flow. "I probably would have done the same in his shoes. Still annoying, though," she said.

"Everyone is awful in this world," Arya said.

"It's just full of a lot of murders, rapers and thieves, and they often cast large shadows on the good people in it."

The Stark girl was quiet. Lana hadn't even noticed that Clegane had gotten up. He came into her view, silhouetted by the moon. He had a flagon in his hand, and some bread.

"Sit up, drink some water and eat. Your body needs it."

She furrowed her brows, surprised that he was helping her now. She did as he said, her eyes latching to the food and water. He gave her the flagon and she drank a small portion of it, then she ate the bread that he handed her. He grabbed her shirt and threw it at her. "At least put the damned shirt back on."

"Why is that?" she asked with her mouth full of bread.

"It's distracting."

She slowly smiled, looking down at her bread. The part in her that was trained to manipulate wanted to use that to fuck with him after everything he had done to her. But she looked back at Arya, and realized the best thing for the girl would be to give her a peaceful night, so Lana put the bloodstained shirt back on.

°°°

They woke up the next morning to Arya missing, although they quickly found her down by the river, throwing stones into it.

Lana walked back to the fire pit that was still gently smoldering, grabbed her belt and put it back on. She leaned against the tree she slept under and adjusted her boots. Once they felt better, she leaned against the rough bark, looking around the shade that kept the grass cool, the sun gently touching everything as the sound of animals skirting about filled in the silence. The day was rather beautiful, although it didn't match the mood. 

Now Clegane was unpaid, stuck with Arya, and Lana felt like she needed to move on, but didn't feel right leaving the girl either. Arya had talked so much about her family, and about how Arya wanted them to meet her. Leaving her now felt like it would scar the wolf girl more.

"What happened last night?" Lana asked Clegane, who was sitting with his elbows on his knees, picking at his fingers.

"Don't know the whys, but we saw her brother with his direwolf's head tied on to his body, paraded around on a horse. They started killing Stark men left and right. Arya tried to run in, but I smacked her in the head and carried her off."

"Her mother?" Lana asked.

"I assume they are all dead," he said like she was an idiot.

"That's awful," she said looking down to the dirt and grass.

"That's life here in Westeros," he said, knocking a bug off of his leg. "All the lords and ladies pretend to be people of honor, but like Ned Stark proved, honor gets you nowhere."

It made her think back to King's Landing, and how Ned Stark had been beheaded there for the truth he uncovered. Lana found it interesting that a lack in honor was something that Clegane noted. "Is that why you left King's Landing? Because it was a shithole?"

He glared at her, and then softened his gaze a bit. "I left because the whole damned place was on fire. If I have to be burned alive, it better be for someone better than that greasy little cunt for a king, if anyone at all."

She nodded, and understood that. "Where are we going now?" she asked, looking around, wondering what to do.

"Is it 'we' already?" he asked with a standoffish attitude.

"You gotta make gold somehow," she pointed out. She pointed to her stomach. "And I am not looking forward to traveling alone. I have shit senses for direction, and I am a huge target, even without a bounty."

"Maybe I want to work for myself. It might be nice not to answer to anyone."

She opened her mouth, the closed it. "But you have to work for someone, and that could be me. Why not me?"

"After everything I did to you?" he asked, the first time he acknowledged that he _was_ a shit to her.

She honestly had a hard time fully faulting him for it. He made sure she was fed and watered the entire time, and he even helped her off the ground some mornings. "As much as I _want_ to be angry with you, no matter how I think of it, you didn't know me. I really did look untrustworthy."

He laughed. "Yeah, that's the fucking truth."

She ate some cheese and said, "You follow me, and you can come back here and kill all the shit lords that you don't like."

He sighed, and then looked at her, gently narrowing his eyes. "I don't have an answer, alright? I don't want to follow orders anymore. I am done with that shit. But I wouldn't mind the gold if you really got it. But either way, it's not on my list of priorities at the moment."

Lana looked away, honestly surprised that he didn't just abandon Arya. "So what _are_ you going to do about Arya? Is there anywhere for her? She could always come with me."

"Might go the Vale. See if her aunt wants her."

"If not, Bravos will take her. It will show her how to live on her own, to deal with her enemies, and how to survive. She doesn't strike me as a lady. I get it. The thought seems odd to me too, even though I am promised a castle," Lana said, rambling. She did that when she was nervous, and unsure. And all this chaos made her nervous.

Clegane looked at her and then chuckled a bit. "You're odd. Talk nothing like the women I know."

"Essos is full of women very unlike here."

"Then maybe she _will_ blend in. If her aunt doesn't work, I don't know what else she will blend into. Can't take her to the Lannisters, as they already treat the other Stark girl like she's a whore and a toy for Joffrey, and she's to become their queen. Imagine what they'd do to that unruly little shit," he said, nodding to Arya in the distance.

Lana genuinely smiled at those words and looked to her hands, wishing she had a dagger to clean her nails. She hated the big, brown line underneath them. She had learned that clean hands tended to go far when gaining the trust of others, and cleaning her own became like a ritual. She had nearly forgotten about it after being tied up for so long. 

She thought back to Clegane's words. He cared. In his own fucked up way, he cared. Maybe not entirely for the people involved, but it was clear he hated the way this world abused people, and had an obvious need to protect the victims of it. His gentleness for Sansa made more sense now. And the very fact that he was speaking to Lana more, and not restraining her, told her that it really was a trust issue all along, probably worried that she would stab him in the night. 

There was a simpleness to Clegane, underneath everything else he portrayed himself to be. Something that just wanted things to not be shitty. 

"Don't go start smiling over there," he threatened. "Don't got time for nice shit like that."

"I can smile if I want," she said, looking over as Arya approached.

"It's time to go," Clegane said, standing up, and so did Lana. She came up to just his chest, and just like that, she felt a gentle nervousness in her groin. A _pleasant_ nervousness. 

She walked over to Clemmy, ignoring any thoughts on Clegane. She didn't need that confusing her now. Her hip and stomach still hurt, but they would heal. She got on her horse, running a hand over the sturdy body and feeling its fur. "You're a decent man under there, Clegane," she said, settling into her horse, feeling good to not be tied up.

"Oh fuck off. I've killed men for saying less than that," he said with exasperation and neared Stranger.

"That's why I want to hire you. You have _some_ morals. And you're cutthroat. That's a useful combination. It's usually one or the other."

"Can't find anyone in Essos as good as me, eh? Maybe I should sell my sword there, if I am so unrivaled."

"That's just half of your selling features for me. The rest wouldn't mean anything in Essos. You're well known in these lands, and it will help to have known warriors of Westeros on our side. You're supposed to be one of the best."

He chuckled with arrogance, or maybe pride. She couldn't quite tell. "That's because I am."

She gave a genuine, lighthearted laugh, gently shaking her head. It caused him glare at her. "You're fucking weird, woman," he said, but his tone was gentler than usual. 

"I prefer unique," she retorted, not quite sure what to say to that. 

He tutted. "I'll give you that. You're like finding a whore on her first day in service. Refreshing, but depressing to know what will become of her."

"And what is going to become of me?" she asked with half of a smile, Arya almost near them.

"You're going to be a lady of a great castle. It's only a matter of time before you're no longer running into battle to help someone, after being tied to a damn tree, and instead the one sewing wolf heads on your enemy. It's the only way lords and ladies survive in this world. Trust me, I know. I have been surviving here for a long time."

She rode next to him, and he gave her an unreadable gaze. "Well then, work for me, and stab me in the heart if I ever do something like that. I don't _ever_ want to become that."

He chuckled. "Clearly I'd have to. Can't even keep you tied to a fucking tree."

The corner of Lana's lips quivered up and down as she tried not to smile. _He is funny. He is an asshole, and yet he is funny._ She wondered if he was just jaded on life. Her mind began to spin theories on him, but it was interrupted as Arya had finally arrived, climbing onto Stranger. Lana would give her silence, in respect to what happened.

And just like that, they were off. Only this time, Lana was free.

As they rode, Lana couldn't help but think that, even though he was comparing her to a whore, he thought she was refreshing.

Needless to say, she pondered hard on what someone like Clegane considered refreshing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH! Thank you to everyone who commented last chapter and gave a kudos or bookmarked! It got me super excited for the story and I had to come back and work on the next chapter XD Basically at this point most of it is written, but I have to go through, edit, maybe dress up a scene or two, etc. The draft is written, basically, but not fully edited. So the enthusiasm really pushed me to edit, so I thank you guys. It really means the world that people are enjoying this just as much as I am!


	12. The Flea Bite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say that some of the scenes with Arya and Clegane are a bit out of order for this. 
> 
> I decided to make the scene with Clegane, Arya, the father and daughter happen before they came across Lana. Below we get the flea bite scene, and then after is when we hit the Inn where Arya gets needle back. Just an FYI in case you were wondering!

Arya looked like a defeated child as they rode. She barely looked up, not caring about getting too close to the Hound on their ride, her head periodically resting on his chest. Usually she liked to fuss about his stench, but now she didn't seem to care.

Lana wasn't sure how to console the girl. It was common to lose parents, siblings, and children in the streets that Lana grew up in. She didn't know how to comfort someone who once had so much, and now had nothing. Lana never really had anything. Except for Sedona, although the shadowbinder had sent Lana away a long before the shadowlands could turn her sterile.

The trio trotted on the road, the rhythm of hooves on dirt now a familiar sound. The sun was warm today, and she was glad when they finally reached a wooded path where the leaves granted reprieve. The shadows moved on the ground as the wind blew the leaves above, and with Clegane nearby, Lana felt safe to enjoy the scenery for once. She became distracted, looking around at the different shades of green, wondering whenever she saw a flower if it had any use for medicine or poison. 

In her new found safety, she realized she would love to explore Westeros more. _Perhaps when Dany takes the throne, I can spend time exploring._

Her enjoyment was disrupted as they heard men in the distance. Lana put her hood up, along with Clegane.

She didn't doubt he'd leave Lana behind if it meant his own survival. She hadn't earned his loyalty or protection yet, and she knew that. She found it ironic that having him around was similar to having a large, scary dog. It kept most men away.

Lana overheard the group of men talking about the failed Stark wedding. They were clearly Freys. It pumped hot blood in Lana's veins, and she glared at them as they neared. Without warning, when they were joking about Rob Stark and his wolf's head, Arya jumped down. Lana watched on with shock as Arya approached the group.

As Arya spoke to them, Lana slowly got off her horse, only to realize that she didn't have a weapon. Clegane dismounted Stranger, his hand on his pommel, and Lana went over to the black horse to retrieve a dagger from her bag _Need to switch this back to Clemmy later_. Clegane could take the brunt of them, and if she was needed, she would help. She eyed one of the swords on the Frey men, noting it seemed to be a short sword. That would be perfect for her. She missed having more than a dagger at her side.

With no indication, Arya sliced at the Frey man's neck. Lana's heart hammered fiercely at the random change in pace. Clegane was faster than Lana to react, already chopping at one of them, and throwing another so hard into the ground the he couldn't get up. He had much more dexterity than someone of his size should have. 

_No wonder he is known as a great fighter._ The Frey men stood no chance. 

One of them came for her, but he seemed like no fighter. It was easy for Lana to avoid his barbaric charge and stab him in the heart, feeling her blade pierce through his rib cages. She yanked her dagger out, warm blood gushing all over her.

Arya killed the last one.

After a quick exchange between Arya and Clegane, he wasted no time as he sat to eat the food that the men were cooking. Arya turned around. "Blood is still gushing from them and you're already eating?"

"I am hungry. And I am a big fucker. I need a lot of food. My brother and I used to eat an entire table's worth when we were growing."

"I don't care about you and your brother," Arya said, a new coldness in her that was hard for Lana to ignore.

"Of course I'd get stuck with a hateful thing like you," Clegane said. Lana wiped her blade on one of the dead.

"My family just died!" Arya exclaimed.

"And _I_ saved you. And yet all you can do is be nasty to me."

"That's because you're a horrible shit," Arya said, sitting down on one of the wooden logs the Frey's had laid out, their dead bodies strewn about.

"Probably for the best that you won't become a lady. You'd be terrible at it," Clegane said, eating the squirrel on the fire, the wind blowing and changing the shadows of the leaves that protected them from the sun.

"I never wanted to be a lady anyway. Besides, with all my family dead, there's no point to it anymore," Arya said with a brokenness that Lana had seen a hundred times. And yet, this time, it greatly discomforted her.

"Your sister is still alive, last I checked," Lana said with a soft tone, trying to think of anything that might make her feel better. Arya looked at Lana with a bit of hope that she feared had been burned away.

"Saw her in her room before I left," Clegane added.

"Why were _you_ in her room?" Arya asked with disgust.

"Wanted to see if she wanted me to take her north. During the siege," he said, re-positioning himself on the log that was much harder for him to sit on with his height.

"Why would you do _that?_ "

"So she didn't have to marry Joffrey. Rob that little shit of his precious toy."

"Well, you obviously failed," Arya criticized.

"Poor little bird thought that Stannis would save her. She's slower than you at getting how the world works. I can't change that."

Lana looked down at her shirt, seeing blood all over it, and on her metal belt. She wiped at her face to see that there was plenty there too. _That Frey was a bleeder_. "I am going to wash my shirt and face in the stream. Don't need blood all over me," Lana said after grabbing some of their food to snack on as she walked.

"Yes, better not have blood on the Lady's clothes," Clegane teased.

The corner of her mouth curled. She turned around. "In my experience, blood on a woman's shirt does very little to gain the trust of strangers," she retorted, and turned back around as he continued to eat, his expression back to indifference.

The stream wasn't far, as this part of the road was paved near one of the larger rivers, plenty of streams winding through. Once she reached it, she took off her shirt and walked into the stream and started to scrub with her hands. She was tempted to mix it with dirt, to see if that would hide the stains better. After looking at it, however, it seemed that it would be fine, the dark green color suitable enough. She washed her face and hair and wiped at her leathers. A shiver ran through her as the cold water was starting to get to her, now that she was covered in it, gooseflesh risen all over her body. Once finished, she carefully exited the stream, attempting not to slip on a smooth rock.

Once standing on land, she looked around, breathing in the fresh air of grass and water.

Westeros truly was a beautiful place.

And yet, the men who lived here were so insistent upon war. If all else failed, maybe Lana could buy a small piece of land to farm on with a stream nearby. She truly just wanted to be out of the Crimson Company. She had enjoyed her time with them, but they were a means to an end, and assassins rarely grew old. She only had twenty-three namedays under her belt, but after her encounter with the faceless woman, she knew that joining Dany was a wise decision. 

_If_ she could ever made it back to her. At this rate, Dany would be queen by the time Lana reached the eastern coast. Lana walked back over the soft grass with her shirt in hand, her hair wet and leaving streams of water down her breasts and stomach.

When she came back to the clearing, Clegane was standing next to Stranger, and eyed her with an impatient gaze.

"Thought I told you walking around like that was distracting," he said.

The beautiful nature lightened her mood, and she felt playful. "Is something wrong with my outfit?"

"Oh fuck off," he said and got up on Stranger. As she watched him mount the horse, her mind ran wild thinking about the strength in his hands and arms. She averted her gaze, as that was the last thing she needed right now. "My shirt is wet. Wanted to let it dry. The Dothraki ride around with their breasts out. Mine are covered. If they can handle it, you can too."

"I heard they fuck like animals."

She shrugged her shoulder and put her shirt on the butt of Clemmy. "That's true."

"Probably a reason for that," he pointed out.

She stifled a laugh. _Well, shit. I guess he isn't wrong there._ "I guess you'll just have to use that discipline you always yammer on about," she said.

He snickered, his voice huskier than before. "Trust me, I am using it right now."

A slick temptation slithered through her veins that she wasn't prepared to feel. 

Lana looked around, trying to distract herself. She eyed Arya who was walking over, still completely solemn. The brokenness in the girl did the trick as Lana was filled with a deep sorrow she wasn't used to feeling for others. 

Arya eventually got back on Stranger, and Lana got on Clemmy. As they rode, Lana enjoyed the sun on her skin, the clouds blocking out most of the intensity.

Eventually, somehow, Lana found herself riding just a bit ahead of Clegane and Arya. She glanced over her shoulder after coming out of a reverie. She was surprised to see that Clegane was watching her, and his eyes were not on the back of her head. He glanced up shamelessly, not caring that he got caught. If anything, he shot her a look that told her to get the fuck over it. 

She smirked and turned around, her chest warming with a buzz, pulling the corner of her lip in with her teeth.

Those looks were something else, and she could feel a tension rising between the two of them. She straightened her back, making sure her frame was accentuated. She wanted to fuck with him for keeping her in ropes and then tying her to a fucking tree. Although, it messed with her equally, as she thought about his unconventional, handsome face staring at her. She liked the way his facial hair was still thin, but growing wild. That look fit him well, and she bet he had a burly chest, covered in hair to go along with his robust hands.

She shook her head. Clegane exuded vigor like whores exuded sexuality, and it was like honey to her.

She needed another cold river bath, as she wasn't thinking straight. She want Clegane as a guard. She knew better than to mix desires with that. And yet, something about the man just pawed at her mind.

Things felt different between them now. Not dramatically, but it was there.

They rode for a few more hours, and yet no matter how much she tried to forget that look he gave her, those dark eyes always found a way right back in. After a long ride, they finally got off of the road and headed into the woods, entering a clearing where they started a fire. Lana put her shirt back on, along with her metal belt. As she rested for the night and she picked at her nails again, leaning against a cold, hard rock, she glanced over to Clegane, his armor glinting a golden color in the fire light.

When she looked at him, his eyes were already on her. 

Lana was shocked at the warm wave of nerves that rushed through her from shoulder to navel. Her body simply reacted to him before she even had time to think.

That wasn't good. She _really_ didn't need that.

It was probably the way he was looking at her. His eyes were hard as usual, but there wasn't an anger in them, only an unreadable gaze that was boring into her.

And something about it was private.

She didn't know what to do and found herself just staring in return while her heart hammered in her chest. She finally looked away, taking in shallow breaths, having no idea what to do. Was this really wise? She genuinely wanted him as her guard. She heard that he was just under thirty, which meant he was in his prime as a fighter. Daenerys had Jorah and Selmy. Certainty, Lana needed a Westerosi too, if they wanted to make this reclamation look as bona fide as possible. She smiled to herself. Of course Dany had the knights, and Lana had to pick the one that was the complete opposite of that.

Lana lied down, ignoring him for now, smelling the smoke of the fire and staring at the blanket of stars through the leaves above.

She made an attempt to rationalize this all away. What else was she to expect when traveling with him? He was a hotblooded man full of testosterone, and he probably hadn't fucked anything in months. Lana knew she was pretty and had a sightly body, as the Crimson Company used that to their advantage often.

Which meant that if anyone was at least decently attractive, and close enough to his age, of course Clegane would start looking at them like that. Jorah looked at Dany that way all the time. However, Lana knew there was a difference, as Dany never returned the look. 

Lana, on the other hand, had.

°°°

The night had come and gone, and the trio was off again on their journey to the Eyrie, which was still weeks away.

They had come across a small farming village that had been razed, and in a way, she was grateful for the distraction. They got off their horses to look around. Lana rummaged through a house of an older man that was currently dying from his wounds. Clegane and Arya were tending to him while Lana salvaged the area. She picked up a ceramic cup to see that it was covered in soot. She threw it down, the sound of it crashing contrasting the birds and leaves blowing around.

Then she heard Arya scream and Clegane yell with a ferocity she had yet to hear from him. "What the _fuck_ are you doing?" She turned around to see that Clegane was holding his neck and a fat, ugly man was looking at them both with a bloody grin.

"There's a bounty on your head," he said, looking at Clegane.

"Guess that's what happens when you tell the king to fuck off."

"King is dead. Died at his wedding drinking poisoned wine."

Clegane looked to Arya then back to the man. "He on your little list?" Clegane asked Arya.

"Can't be. I don't know his name," Arya said, like a dog staring at a raw steak.

"What's your name?" Clegane asked, still gripping his neck.

"Rorge."

"Thank you," Arya said and stabbed him in the heart with one of Lana's blades that she now carried.

"You're learning," Clegane said an ounce of pride, looking at his bloodied hand from his wound.

Lana went over to him. "What happened," she said, eyeing his dirty neck that was now covered in blood.

"Bit me. Just a flea bite," he said and walked forward, ignoring her concern. "We can look at it later."

They finished looking around the homes, finding very little other than blackened, smoldering remains. They eventually got back on their horses and continued their journey. 

When they came across an open field, that probably belonged to a grazing farmer from the village that was ash and rubble, they decided to stop early for the night. It would be best to sit somewhere out in the open to see someone coming, as Clegane needed to remove his armor to look at his bite. The grass in the field blew in the wind, creating waves of white as the green bent over, the jagged, giant rocks from the Earth sprouting around.

He removed everything, only leaving his tunic, trousers, and boots, and Lana shamelessly looked. There were scars that interrupted the hair on his chest, and even with him being lean from travel and lack of nutrition, he was still a thick, broad man. She wondered what he looked like when he was serving under Joffrey and probably at his thickest. There was something to a robust, angry, ruthless man that riled something deep in a woman like Lana. She knew it was because he didn't seem to kill for utterly no reason, which meant there was a trust to be found, somewhere deep in there.

It was a trust someone like her desperately wanted to win.

Lana began to cut away at pieces of her handmaid's dress while him and Arya spoke. He grew angry when Arya suggested using fire to burn away a nasty bit of his wound. Lana eventually stopped to look at them both and listen in. 

It would seem that the attempt to use fire on him, the complete failure to properly ransom Arya, the moral conundrum of what to do with her now, paired with all three of them being people that couldn't be found, finally revealed to be a heavy level of stress for him. Then, it somehow turned into a conversation about how he got his scar, and how his brother held him in the fire for only playing with one of his toys. Lana felt very out of place, like she shouldn't have heard any of that, as it was clearly a conversation between a hound and a wolf. 

Then again, he knew Lana could hear.

Clegane looked to Arya and said, "Your family may be gone, but they gave you a reason to miss them. Me? My brother gave me _this._ " He pointed as his face, and then looked back at his hands, then out into the lands beyond. "You think you're on your own?"

He looked back at his hands, mindlessly handling the needle from Lana's pack.

Lana slowly looked down to the grass. He was a lonely fucker, and he just admitted it. But the reality about him was still there. He was a ruthless man who had been jaded by the world, which meant he was still dangerous. He had proven that he was not above brutality to get his way in the world. Someone like him had unpredictable motives, and she finally realized that _that's_ why she couldn't figure him out. 

Either way, her getting to know who he really was turned out to be a lot darker, and sadder, then she initially thought.

"Let one of us help you, at the very least," Arya said.

It took a while, but he finally nodded.

"You good at sewing?" Arya asked Lana.

"I can sew wounds. What of you? Don't ladies practice that all the time?"

"I always got yelled at for it. Best if you do it. I'll go get fresh water for us, since we need to use what we got for his shoulder," she said and walked to the stream nearby with an empty bucket. 

Lana breathed in deep, an excited nervousness in her chest as she realized she'd get to be close to him. He seemed more like a real person now, after his little speech. And even though he _did_ have a callous nature, she knew it had been completely fostered by his brother, family and the Lannisters, bastardizing whatever good remained in him. She walked over to him and took the needle from his hand, washed out the wound, and stood in front of him to get the better angle. She was close enough that she felt the warmth of his unarmored body. He wasn't very receptive to any of it, however, looking away most of the time. She used some of the ripped handmaid's dress to wipe away at it, and his body tensed every time she did.

It was hard remaining excited about him as she stared at the wound, dulling any appetite of hers. Getting stabbed was always painful, but getting one's body pierced by something as blunt as human teeth was always worse. She went back to her bag and grabbed some honey before starting the stitching. 

"The fuck is that for?" he asked in a miserable tone.

"It's supposed to help with healing. Since we can't burn it, you need _something._ "

He languidly blinked and looked away, faintly nodding. "Going to stitch it now," she warned as she got ready to start the process. He grunted in reply. She sewed at the skin and he grimaced most of the time, but he didn't move. She tried to move as skillfully as possible to minimize any agony.

And even though she was focusing on this, and staring at a nasty wound, she _did_ enjoy their proximity. She liked being so close to someone like him, his sheer size encompassing her as she stood between his legs. He kept his head averted away, and that was for the better, as her chest was quite close to his face. She half expected some kind of comment throughout, but it never came. Once she was done, she put the honey on the cut up fabric and placed it over his wound, hoping the stickiness would keep it in place, and that the honey would help his body fight any infection. "There, that's the best that I can do for now," she said with a gentle tone.

He finally looked at her, and in their eye contact, it became apparent just how close they actually were. She was able to see details in his face for the first time. It didn't seem to go unnoticed by him either, and where she had tried to be nice to him, it seemed he was not willing to reciprocate. "Oh, there's plenty more that you could do. But this works for now. Now back the fuck off before I decide to act on any ideas running through my head."

Her instinct ignited as she smacked him on his shoulder, an incredulous, half smile on her face. As soon as her hand made contact, which barely did anything to him, he clasped her wrist. She tried to yank her hand away, but it was apparent that she wouldn't get it back until he decided to give it back. 

"I don't like people touching me, let alone smacking me," he warned. She tried to take a step back, but his leg was on the back of her thigh. She breathed heavily as she glared at him.

Her own audacity seized her, as she knew he was trying to make her uncomfortable. He always did that when he wanted someone to leave him alone, and after his little speech, and her kinder tone, she bet it was all too much for him. But she was _not_ about to let him get away with that. "If I can't touch you, then how can I do more for you, Clegane?" she asked, making sure there was a flirtatiousness in her voice he couldn't ignore. If he was willing to say things that made her uncomfortable, she'd do it right back.

His entire expression changed to an unyielding glower, his jaw gently jutting out to one side before he said with a rasp, "If you're looking for a fuck, then just say the words. I'll tie up the wolf girl and leave her by the stream so I can properly fuck you for as long as I want."

She sucked her bottom lip to her upper teeth. Oh, she'd show him how wrong he was for thinking that scared her. Lana was more like the women from the Iron Islands, rather than the florid castles of noble ladies that he was used to scaring. "Even if I _were_ looking for you to fuck me," she said, his eyes latching to her with a ferocity that was both sexual and full of indignation. "You can't have it. Got my maidenhead still. Can't just give that away in the grasslands of wherever the fuck we are. I am to become a _lady._ I will probably need that for marriage," she said, pretending like it meant anything to her.

She tried to pull her wrist from him once more, but he gripped it harder, not caring that it hurt her. He snickered as he returned the same devilry in his eyes. "Like you still got it."

She tutted. A part of her burned to have him touch her more, but his continued disregard made her want to make him writhe. "If you manage to fuck me before anyone else, you'll find that I bleed. My order liked my virtue, and made sure that I kept it. So yes, I still got it," she said curtly.

He scoffed, his arrogance and amusement returning. "You don't seem like a virgin in the fucking least. I should know. Fucked quite a few."

She shrugged a shoulder. "I'm pretty much not, except for that one part of me," she said with a half smile, attempting to pull her hand away again with more of a jerk, leaning into his leg. He didn't let go, and when his gaze moved to the side, Lana followed it. Arya was now approaching with a bucket full of water, carefully balancing it so as not to spill it.

His grip remained firm on Lana, and he pulled her closer, a threat in his eyes. "I haven't fucked in months. Keep toying with me woman, and I'll make sure that gets changed," he said and let go of her.

She smiled at him with a huff. 

_Dammit._

She didn't want to smile. _Recover, Storm. Don't let him win._ "I don't know. You bashed my skull in twice and left me with a tree. Maybe I _want_ to watch you squirm a bit," she said and turned around, completely flustered, taking in deep breathes, angry, sexually frustrated, and in awe of what just happened.

This journey, she felt, was about to get very interesting. With his insistent hatred for the world and others, coupled with her tenacity and need to win, she wondered just how long it would last before something happened between them, good or bad.

°°°

Clegane watched Lana walk back to her bag, his eyes devouring her shape more than before. So far, he had tried to ignore her in that regard, as she was a shapely woman. He didn't want to stress his balls out. 

But now the mad bitch was openly taunting him, practically dangling her sex before him.

How the fuck was he supposed to handle that? Most women fled in fear when he acted like a dick, something he did when he wanted to be left alone. Sure, there were always the share of women that lusted after a man like him, as some women just had a thing for that. But this woman was different. She was of an order, somewhere in Essos, that specialized in murder. Even if she _were_ a virgin, everything else about her wasn't. This was a woman who knew how to manipulate.

And in all his threats, she didn't give a shit about any of them. He didn't like when someone didn't take his threats seriously, as that was a sure way to piss him off. 

But that smile she gave, at the very end...that was not intended. That was genuine. Some part of her, somewhere, enjoyed him.

He huffed and held down a laugh, rolling his aching shoulder forward. He looked at Arya, and wondered if the little wolf girl hadn't been here, what exactly would have happened between him and this supposed virgin assassin he was traveling with. 

He looked back at Lana, who thanked the Stark girl for fetching the water.

One thing was for certain, he'd take Lana and fucking wreck her between her legs if he ever got the chance.

°°°

**THANK YOU GUYS! Thank you so much for the comments last chapter, the kudos, all of it! It got me working hard on this chapter!! Again, thank you so much. You guys make this worth it for me. I genuinely mean that. I hope everyone enjoyed this! Buckle in, sweet summer children, as the story really ramps up from here ;D**


	13. One Horse Gained, Another Horse Down

Arya picked up on the tension between Lana and Clegane.

"What's wrong with you two?" Arya asked. She set her bucket of water down while Clegane put his armor back on. "You both keep glaring at each other when the other isn't looking."

"Nothing, his shoulder just hurts," Lana said. 

"Doesn't explain the glaring."

"It's Clegane. Do we really need to explain why he glares at people?" Lana pointed out. Arya shrugged her shoulders, although her eyes remained skeptical. 

Lana stole another glance at Clegane once he started to put his armor back on. Lana knew that they would need help with tying some of the shoulder pads back on. Just as he looked at her, she diverted her gaze, trying her best to ignore the man. She didn't want him to win, which meant she needed to appear as unaffected as possible. When the time came to it, he seemed to have the same approach, ignoring her while they helped put his armor back on. They even managed to get back on the horses without saying a word.

"See, you're both quiet," Arya said, sitting with Clegane on Stranger. "I hope you're not fighting." 

Lana's roguery shriveled away at the comment. Arya was probably worried that the only adults in her life were now quarreling. 

"It's just my shoulder, wolf girl. Don't feel like talking."

Lana opened her mouth to add something, but closed it, gently smiling. It was moments like those that she warmed up to him. He knew when to lighten up his shithead persona, even if it was on the rare occasion. 

The tension never seemed to die, however, as during their ride, their eyes would connect every now and again. And when they did, a dark _want_ flooded his gaze, and that only fueled her. They were both stingy, which meant breaking the eye contact was always a dramatic affair. There was a sexual frustration between them that could no longer be ignored.

That night they made a fire, and she and Clegane continued to ignore each other, save for the odd, accidental glances that connected. Every time, her chest would burn with a nervousness that would whet her appetite, and also wet her elsewhere. It didn't help that when that happened, she imagined telling Clegane all about the effects he had on her body.

 _Oh_ , she wanted to torment that man in that way. Taunt him so severely he'd eventually have to act on it.

But Lana was often reminded of the Stark girl. She didn't want to push the man too far, lest the tension grew so thick they had no other option but to take care of it. And Lana didn't know what kind of repercussions would occur if they became intimate, aware that Arya didn't need that potential instability in her life.

As Arya said the names on her list, the sound of people approaching and hooves on stone brought them all to alert. Clegane immediately poured water on the fire. They mostly remained still, the air smelling of smoke. On a bridge in the distance, travelers crossed with a carriage, candle boxes gently swaying while they hung from the wagon. The firelight reflected over the adjacent river, and the voices carrying over the water. One of the men said, "Does anyone else smell smoke?"

"Might be travelers nearby," another said.

"Should we go have a look?"

The carriage stopped on the middle of the bridge. "What for? Keep going," a raspy voice one said that spoke softer than the rest.

"Might got some things to loot."

"At this hour? I don't feel like a fight."

"They're probably asleep by now."

"Not with how loud we are talking. Keep going; we've got places to be," the raspy one said. The carriage lurched forward, the candle boxes vigorously swinging back and forth. Lana breathed a sigh of relief. She hated fighting at night. 

"We should move," Clegane said quietly, turning around once they were out of sight.

"And go where?" Arya asked.

"Not here."

"What do you think, Lana?" Arya asked. 

Clegane stopped in front of Lana, looking down at her with a cocked brow. She eyed his darkened face. How badly she wanted to say that he was wrong, especially with the way he stood there, waiting for an answer. She knew that he wanted to witness her admitting that he was right. It was the first time they had properly interacted since their near physical breakdown. Her stubbornness nearly won, but the need for Arya's safety came first.

Lana sighed and looked at Arya. "He is right. It's not safe. They clearly don't mind robbing sleeping people."

Clegane scoffed and walked over to the horses. It took everything Lana had not to pester him back. _He is so arrogant!_. 

"Neither of _you_ mind robbing people in their sleep."

"That's why we know to move," Clegane said.

They rode for a few more hours downstream, which was mostly a rocky valley with some irregular spots of deep water. Once Clegane felt it was safe, they got off their horses and rested for the night. Lana lied down, imagining what would have happened by now if Arya weren't there. Would Lana be over there with Clegane for the night? Would they _really_ have fucked already?

It irked her that she couldn't read him, and he seemed to be extra resistant to her tactics. She wouldn't be able to force any of his true intentions or emotions out like she could with most men.

It was one of the few things that she didn't like about the Lord of Light as well. She hated blindly hoping for something. 

She tried to sleep that night, but her mind seemed insistent on imagining the two of them alone, her heart rate always beating too quickly for sleep.

°°°

They spent two more days journeying. Aside from Lana's hunger, both in her stomach and groin, she was enjoying herself. The country out in Westeros was marvelous and so unlike the tropics of Essos.

Although nothing would quite compare to Asshai or the mountains of the Shadowlands.

Dragons were said to still live in the mountains out there, along with other beasts. On the rare occasion, dragons eggs would make their way to the Asshai, although the vast majority of men that traveled there died. Only those that followed the Lord of Light seemed to make it, or the rare soul that somehow faced the darkness on their own. It was the very trading of dragon eggs that brought Lana to Sedona.

Lana wanted to return to those dark lands one day, attracted to the obscurity of it all, and to see Sedona again.

" _Why are you giving me away, if you traded four dragon eggs for me?" Lana had asked her priestess, when she was the age of Arya._

_"You must be in more fertile lands before you first bleed your woman's blood, or you will never be able to bleed, Saelolana. I have done a lot of traveling in visions, and you need to give birth to more riders one day."_

_"But I will miss you."_

_"I have seen it in many shadows. You are not meant to live here. You must go to lands in the West. Dragons need their riders, and the Night is coming. Our mother of dragons will know much heartache, and you must help see her through it. The Night will not vanish in your generation's light. You must help make children that will bear more children, until one day, they must face the true Night."_

_"What is the true Night?"_

_"One of the Night's men have grown eager. He will lead an army, but he is not what Night truly has to offer. That comes later."_

Lana took in a deep breath. The women of Asshai and the Lord of Light's followers were always raving about prophecies and how the night was coming, and that it was full of darkness and terrors.

Lana wondered how true it all was.

There was one thing she _did_ know for certain - this world, while dominated by humanity, had deep, dark roots in magic and gods. Which gods were right? She didn't know. But she had seen the Lord of Light work his magic before many times, whereas the other gods just seemed to exist so the High Sparrow could rule.

She was pulled out of her reverie when she saw smoke curling into the sky, beyond the trees.

"That's definitely from a building," Lana said.

"A large hearth. Might be an Inn," Clegane said.

"Maybe they have a horse to buy for me. I'd even take a pony," Arya said. Lana smiled at how pathetic that sounded.

"Trust me; I'll be glad to have my damned horse back," Clegane said.

They tied their horses up to some trees and slowly walked through the woods, peeking through the branches. "Definitely an Inn," Clegane said. 

"I smell food," Lana said. The air smelled like cook meat. It was almost enough of a distraction to make her forget about her and Clegane. Some men eventually came out to take a piss, and Lana looked away. Arya mentioned that one of them had her original sword. "That's Needle."

"You named your sword?" Clegane asked.

"Lots of people name their sword."

"Lots of cunts."

Lana chuckled, looking down at the ground to distract herself. She couldn't help it. He had a way with that kind of humor. She looked back ahead with a deep sigh, trying to re-frame her state of mind. He gently glanced down to her. "Trying to give us away?" he asked.

"I can't help it that you're funny."

"It wasn't a joke," he said, facing her more.

"I'll laugh if I want," she retorted, facing him as well.

"Maybe I need to stick something in your mouth to shut you up," he threatened, his usual tactics working less and less on her.

Her eyes gently widened as a fiendish grin came to her. "Go ahead, Clegane. I know a few tricks that make men buckle. As I said, that part of me lost its virtue long ago."

His eyes revved with a deep, carnal passion. She liked that reaction. It seemed to be the only thing she could use to get a rouse out of him.

"Will you two shut up," Arya spat. Clegane slowly eyed Lana's body, his gaze reconnecting with hers. His upper lip twitched, and through his scruff she saw his jaw clench. She gently raised a brow and tilted her head. His eyes narrowed and he scowled before looking away, but she caught it. She caught that amusement in his eyes.

She was driving him mad, and he was doing the same to her, and they both knew it.

The more that Lana was around him, the more she got used to his crass nature, developing a tolerance of it. Perhaps it was because he kept threatening to kill everything that annoyed him, especially Arya, and yet he always made sure she was fed and let her ride his horse.

"We can take one of those horses," Arya said, pulling them back in.

"Those horses belong to Lannister men," Clegane said, focusing back on the task at hand. "And there are at least seven of them in there. You see that cart? Those were probably the men we saw on the bridge."

"We can take them."

"Not worth the risk. We are tired and hungry."

"I want to eat some good food and sleep on something soft tonight," Arya said. "Let Lana go in and buy some bread at the very least? They'll recognize you for sure, but they might not know her."

"Fuck off with that. She doesn't go into a tavern full of Lannister men alone."

"Why? They won't know who she is."

"Because I will end up having to kill them anyway. They'd never let her walk out without having their way with her."

Lana tucked that away to think about it later, her stomach warming at thinking he might actually care. But she didn't have time to linger on it as she said, "Plus, every Lannister is looking for a lone female that is my age."

"Forgot about that," Arya said. "Too busy thinking about the food in there..."

"We should camp out and wait for tomorrow when they are gone," Clegane said. 

"But my sword."

"It's just a needle like you said."

Arya grunted, looked back at the Inn, and Lana knew that look. "Arya, you stay-"

But it was too late. Arya took off for the Inn.

Clegane was quick to go after her. Lana moved her feet in apprehension but remained in the woods, as was her instinct. When the door opened to the Inn, the sheer frustration on his face was evident. He looked up to Lana with hard eyes before going back to the door.

Well, she didn't blame him there. He couldn't just walk away without looking fishy. He didn't signal her, though. Did that mean he wanted her to stay there? Should she go in after them? She fidgeted as she bit her lip, then sucked on it.

Those were Lannister men in there, and that was Arya Stark and Sandor Clegane. They might not know Arya, but they'd know Sandor. Lana let out a long sigh, readying herself for combat as her stomach grumbled. This would be a weak fight, but she didn't plan to participate unless she had to. She decided to go near the house and assist if it became necessary.

She didn't even think about if it was smart or not to potentially risk her life for Clegane or a Stark.

She just went for it.

Lana moved in the trees as quietly as she could, careful to stop and duck if she stepped on a twig. She squinted to see through the windows before making her move for the building. 

Clegane and Arya were talking to a man.

That couldn't be good.

When the coast was clear, she ducked and rolled towards the Inn, coming to her feet in a low crouch, moving against the stone wall. It was poorly guarded in general, and she was going to take advantage of that. She moved on the backside of the Inn, alert as she looked around. She didn't dare stand by one of the windows, as they were nothing more than cut out holes. One could peak through and see her sitting right there.

She crouched against the cold stone, breathing slowly. Adrenaline warmed her veins like alcohol, staving off her hunger. She was in that position for what felt like hours, although she knew it was only minutes.

Then she noticed it.

_Silence._

She carefully rose, eyes wide and unblinking as she listened.

The sound of large objects smashing about in the room and the grunting of Clegane was enough to know there was a fight. She ran to the window. Arya was in the back watching on as Clegane dealt with four men at once. To her surprise, Arya picked up a blade of one of the fallen men and began to slice at them in a beautiful, careful fashion. It was the dance of a novice taking a stab at a new profession.

Lana didn't have time to admire further as Clegane was on his back, fighting off a rather large man himself. Clegane was hungry, weak, and infected. That was always a risky combination, no matter the professional.

Lana took a step back, ran at the window, placing her hands on the stone and rolled through the window, landing on her feet inside of the Inn, taking large leaps to reach the man that was fighting Clegane. She stabbed him in the back of the skull, pushing him off as she tried to pull her sword out. The body ended up taking her with it, and she had to put a foot on the man's head to pull it out. _I've grown so much weaker._

Clegane rose, staring at her with curious, murderous eyes. He grabbed his sword, stabbed another man that came at them, and before she knew it, Arya had the last one on the ground, talking to him. That one was Polliver, and he had killed a friend of hers, to which Arya returned the favor and stuck her skinny needle in his neck. The three looked around the room, and there was no one left but the Innkeeper and his daughter.

Clegane looked to Lana, both of them lightly panting. Then he nodded at her and re-directed his attention to the Innkeeper.

"Who are you people?" the Inn Keeper asked.

"No one," Arya said.

Lana's blood ran cold, throwing a glare to Arya, a hand back on her blade, half expecting to see Arya rip her face off to reveal a faceless.

"What?" Arya asked her eyes like a deer that had been spotted.

Lana let out a breath and nodded. "Nothing, sorry. That means something in Essos," Lana said, still not sure if she should tell Arya about the Faceless Men. She imagined she would when it came time to leave. For now, she saw that Arya's 'friend' in Bravos gave her hope.

"We will take some of your chickens as payment. And one of their horses," Clegane said, nodding to the bloodied men on the ground. "Maybe anything else you got that would aid in travel," Clegane said.

The Innkeeper nodded. "Of course. But, may I ask if you can help move their bodies? I am old, and they are wearing armor."

Lana looked to Clegane. It was his call. He stared at her for a moment before saying, "Make us more chickens."

And without skipping a beat, the Hound began to haul the bodies out. Lana and Arya teamed up, grabbing their shoulders and feet as they carried them out. Once outside, Lana started checking their pockets.

"Their bodies aren't even warm yet," Arya said, and Clegane turned around.

"It's easier to pickpocket when they're still warm. Otherwise, they get hard, and then they bloat," Lana said and heard a chuckle come from Clegane.

"Pay attention, wolf girl. She is right about that," he said. Lana pulled some coin from their pockets, smiling with victory, and put it in hers. Clegane gave her a look that she hadn't quite seen from him yet, which was a subtle expression of amusement, and perhaps approval? He turned around before she could analyze it further.

"Go get some food," Lana said to Arya, who just stood there and watched on.

The Stark girl came over and rummaged as well. "Need to learn how to do this."

Lana sighed. It didn't feel right to keep it from her. "Arya," she said. "The coin you have? That's for the Faceless Men."

"The assassins?"

"Yes. They are No One, which is why you startled me earlier. Thought you were one of them for a second while my blood was hot and ready for a fight," she said.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"I didn't want to at first because I saw that it kept your spirits up. But that's a big decision. You'll want to think about making it. Doing the things that you're doing now? This would become your life."

"Don't have many options," she said, her short brown hair getting in her eyes as she bent over to loot another body.

"There's your aunt."

"I don't want to go to the Eyrie. I just," she said and got frustrated, pressing her lips together as she looked around. "I just want to go home."

Lana stared at the girl for a while, watching her look at the coin in her hand. "I am so sorry for everything, Arya. I'd like to say I get it," Lana said with an empty laugh. "But I don't. I never had a family. Well, I did, and I do, but they are all killers too. I can't imagine what you have lost. You know it's big, right?"

"What?" she asked, moving only her eyes to Lana.

"The loss of yours. It's big. It's not small, and it's not simple, and you'll never truly get over it. It's alright to be angry or to want to become someone else. What you have been through changes someone. If you ever want, you are always welcome with the Targaryen's. We can help give you back your home."

Arya's eyes widened, and Lana saw a great deal of emotion start to form. But the girl cut it off, and said, "I have no home. Home was my family. Winterfell is nothing but a crypt now." Arya turned around and walked back to the Inn.

As sad that was, it gave Lana some hope for her. If Arya was to do any of the work that Lana did, then that's the exact reaction she would need to have. After she took what they needed from the bodies, Lana went back into the Inn. The three of them enjoyed a large meal, some ale, and got more supplies for the road. The Innkeeper gave Lana a bag of goods that she put on Clemmy. 

And of course, they got some fresh chickens for the road.

A few hours had passed, the tension between Lana and Clegane not necessarily dying down, but they were both clearly actively avoiding it. She wished she could ask why, but he was nearly the only person that she didn't know how to anticipate. She knew for herself that she didn't want to impose their immature, sexual feud onto Arya. Did Clegane feel the same? Or was he suddenly done with her?

It drove Lana mad not knowing.

As they crossed a stream, a small group of deer hopped through on the other side, and to Lana's shock, it spooked Clemmy. 

The horse made an attempt to jump on the slippery rocks, and to Lana's horror, the horse crashed hard into the river. Lana screamed and tried her best to implement a quick maneuver, but Clemmy collapsed on Lana's left left. Lana screamed out in pain, her ankle no doubt injured, and her body hitting the jagged rocks hard.

"Lana!" Arya yelled.

"Oh, _fuck_ me!" she exclaimed, pulling her leg out as she gripped the stones around her, half submerged in water. The horse was screaming and thriving, and the fact that it wasn't getting up worried Lana. When her leg was free, Lana breathed heavily, pain searing through her body, her eyes watery from involuntary tears.

She looked around for a way to help herself up, knowing that her ankle would not help her on slippery rocks and water. She would probably have to crawl out.

She panted, the pain causing her immense agony. She tried to scoot, but her elbow was pained as well.

She nearly lied down to give her time to accept the pain, but as she was about to do so, she felt a hand grab underneath her arm, and then another underneath her legs. With the shock and pain she hadn't even noticed that Clegane had neared her, pulling her into his chest as he picked her up out of the water.

What surprised her the most was how fast he had reacted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU GUYS! The enthusiasm continues to surprise me and make so happy :D It's so awesome to know that people enjoy my approach, trying to build that sexual tension versus smashing them together right away. Clegane is a fun character to build tension with ;D 
> 
> All I have to say is...I wonder which horse she will have to ride now *scratches chin*
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER TITLED: The Wine Talking


	14. The Wine Talking

She put her arm around him as he carried her out of the stream.

Half of her wanted to make a clever retort about him being her knight in shining armor, and the other half was genuinely touched that he was so quick to help her. The anger on his face told her he was in no mood for such banter. Before she could decide on what to say, Arya stated, "She can ride on my horse."

Clegane growled. "She is going to have to ride on Stranger, with me," he said, placing her down on the grass. Their eyes connected for a short moment before he turned around. He did not look pleased, and she wondered why exactly that was. "Look her over and see if she's injured," he said to Arya. 

Arya hopped down and looked over Lana, mostly on her backside where Lana couldn't see. "You have some nicks and some red spots, but nothing is gushing or broken. That must have really hurt, though. Are you alright?"

"Thanks, I'm just going to be hurting for a little while. My ankle is the worst thing, I think," Lana said, barely able to put weight on it. 

"Well, you can ride my horse, like I said," Arya said.

"No, idiot child," Clegane yelled as he pulled out his sword and cut clean through the screeching horse's neck on the spinal side. Lana grimaced, hating to see that. Killing animals always rubbed her the wrong way, which she knew was hypocritical, since she killed people with ease. Plus, she actually liked Clemmy. As Lana examined the scene, she could see that Clemmy's knee was blown out, her left leg wholly broken. She would have never been able to stand up again.

The poor horse was dead as soon as it hit the water. 

"Yours is nearly half the size of Stranger," Clegane said, cleaning off his blade before grabbing the goods that were attached to Clemmy, her blood befouling the river in a gentle stream of red. "Yours will be broken within a week if we tried that."

"But the men in the Inn weighed more than both of us combined," Arya said.

"That's not the issue," Clegane said, grabbing Lana's bags and carrying them over to Arya's horse. "It's where you sit on a horse. You either sit on its kidneys in the back or sit in front on its neck. Stranger can take the weight in the front with his size, coupled with how light and small you both are. Your horse is too small," he said, securing the wet bags on Arya's brown horse. "Stranger is a warhorse; he's built for it. You'll just carry her things. We'll have to find a horse soon, however. I'm tired of wearing Stranger out like this."

Lana limped over to Stranger in silence, waiting for Clegane. She'd have a hard time getting up on that giant beast, as she was shorter than the back of the horse. As she stared at the dark, powerful stallion, she fully realized what she was doing. 

She was going to have to sit with Clegane on it.

"Your legs go over the side," he said from behind her. He grabbed her and hoisted her up before she could say a word. She grabbed the horn of his saddle for balance, sitting sideways on Stranger. Clegane grabbed the horn himself, put a foot in a stirrup, and mounted the horse like it was an ordinary sized beast. Lana slid down on the horse's spine, nestling against the saddle and leaning into Clegane's body for balance. 

The aches she felt were momentarily numbed by her proximity to him. She put her arm behind him as she had seen Arya do. One of his arms wrapped around her to grab the reigns, her back leaning into it. Next thing she knew, she was basically huddled into him, close enough that she smelled the metal of his armor. 

She stole a small glance up at him and could see nearly every hair on his face. _This is going to be a close ride_. As Stranger moved, Lana leaned harder into Clegane, their combined weight making it easier. She looked back ahead at the dirt road that was covered in moving shadows from the trees above. As they rode, her breath periodically hitched, never quite getting used to being so physically absorbed into Clegane.

Arya eventually trotted off at a quicker speed, but Stranger moved slowly with two bodies weighing him down. Clegane's turbulent demeanor helped cool Lana's desires, which made the ride more comfortable, for as pleasant as it could get. 

"It's far easier the other way, with one of my legs on either side," Lana softly suggested, wanting him to take her seriously. She'd enjoy this conundrum _much_ better that way. 

"I know you want to put your ass against my cock, but I'm not torturing myself for the next few days," he said, his tone more terse than playful.

And just like that, everything ignited again, despite how much her ankle throbbed, and how uptight he was. She laughed, rubbing the front of her teeth with her tongue. "This is going to be a tumultuous ride," she said, although her tone wasn't as stormy as his.

He snickered. "You won't even deny it."

She thought back to his comment, about his dick against her ass. "NO, that's - _ugh._ " She curtly sighed. She wanted to turn her head and look at him, but she figured that would just make things worse. "I can't smack you, I can't tell you to fuck off, I can't do _anything_ to counter you."

"Good. That's just how I like it," he said arrogantly.

 _Gods_ did she want to smack him. So, she switched her tune. "You don't have to be so mean, you know."

He barely missed a beat as he said, "Coming from the person that is trained to say whatever she has to say, to get whatever she wants."

"You know, sometimes, I actually say things that _I_ want to say. I know, it's a wild thought."

"I don't have any way to prove that."

Fine, she'd go there then. If he were going to be an ass, she'd annoy him back in the only way that she could. "But you'd fuck me without any issue? Even if you don't trust me?"

A low rumble came from behind, a pleasant shiver rippling down her spine, which nearly doubled in intensity when he leaned in. All the pain in her body vanished, her heart fluttering as she was drowned in a rush of hormones. His voice resounded in his chest, and she could feel it vibrate into her, his breath hot on her ear. "If the wolf girl weren't here, then aye, I'd have fucked you already. Again, and again...and then again. Don't need to trust you to fuck you. Could use it right now, to help blow off this steam about your fucking horse being an idiot."

She eyed the scenery around, flabbergasted, aroused, and amused. The road itself was treeless, although they stood strong in the distance around them. She tried to keep her wits about her, "Well, glad I got a say in what happens there. Didn't know I was so willing."

He chuckled and pulled away. "Don't pretend like you don't want it. We're far past that by now."

If he didn't have armor on, she'd have pinched him. "You are so _cocky_ ," she said, an angry smile on her face. 

"Unlike most men, I am that way for a reason."

She partially rolled her eyes. " _And_ arrogant."

He laughed. The genuine amusement surprised Lana, and she appreciated the distraction while her ankle dangled about.

Arya interrupted them as she slowed her horse and looked back to them. "Sorry you have to deal with his stench, by the way," Arya said.

"At least there's fresh air. It's worse when you're crammed into a room," Lana said.

Arya laughed, and with her presence next to them, Lana and Clegane momentarily tucked away whatever heat was burning between them.

They rode like that for a few more hours, and it was mostly silent. Although Lana rarely relaxed. Her heart rate was permanently elevated by being so close to him, wondering when the next bout of exchanges would be. She hoped her ankle healed soon, as the pain was getting harder to ignore. Once the sun was behind them, she could finally relax the muscles in her face, releasing her near-constant squint. At times, she got used to Clegane holding her in his arms, concerned and curious that he was able to contain himself. That just wasn't like most men that she knew. What made Clegane so salacious, and yet so controlled? 

To further make it worse, she never seemed to be able to predict his demeanor. It was so frustrating to her.

She was pulled from any thoughts as men wearing Lannister colors approached them on the road.

Lana gripped Clegane's armor tighter, not interested in a fight with her bruised body and lame ankle. The men eyed them, and one of them was keen on Lana. One of Clegane's hands dropped from the reigns and laid over her lap. Lana watched the one who eyed her, his eyes now above her head, as no doubt he and Clegane were locking glares. 

That was a new experience for her.

She wondered what it must be like to be able to intimidate someone by just existing? There were plenty of times in her past where she could have used that. She smirked to herself as they continued on past. She could _definitely_ get used to having someone like Clegane around.

Lana looked around Clegane's body to see that the men were indeed riding on, none of them bothering to look their way. The afternoon sun struck their armor, which shone brilliantly as they swayed on their horses. 

"They're not going to get you," Clegane said with a patronizing tone. He lifted his hand to grip the reigns again. She racked her brain for something to say, but couldn't think of anything. It didn't help that her pain was getting worse, not aided by this awful position.

"Cat got your tongue? You're usually yammering on by now."

"Oh, I am trying to come up with something witty. But the pain is distracting," she said, a bite in her tone that she didn't anticipate.

He was quiet for a moment before he asked, "What else hurts?"

"Elbow, shoulders, hips, then, of course, my ankle. It's nothing to worry about though. Just a bitch to deal with," she said, re-gripping Stranger's coarse hair.

"We'll stop early so you can rest."

"Well that's thoughtful," she said, pleasantly surprised. 

"It's practical," he said, his curtness returning.

She scoffed. "Sure, we'll call it that."

He sighed. "This would be a lot easier if you quit being so fucking difficult."

"Was that advise for yourself, or for me?"

He laughed with a dark tone. "Bout to fucking stick you Arya's horse and put her back on here, if you keep up like this."

"You two get along worse," she pointed out, her brows furrowing. She looked to the Stark girl, watching her swat something off her leg.

"Aye, but I've lived among Joffrey for years, and he was the biggest cunt alive. I can deal with little shits. It's the waning restraint I have to use with you that's going to become a problem. I warned you not to toy with me."

She took in a slow, deep breath, enjoying her effect on him. "Oh, do I make things complicated for you, Clegane?"

"You already know the fucking answer. Was a lot easier to deal with when you weren't sitting between my fucking legs."

"I can't help that poor Clemmy was an idiot," she said, re-gripping her hand on his armor this time. This was truly not a comfortable position.

He chortled. "The fuck kind of name is Clemmy?"

"A fitting one."

"Dumb name for a dumb horse."

"Well then, I guess, by your own definition, it _was_ a fitting name," she said with a winning smile.

"Oh fuck off, thinking you're so clever."

"It's more of a fact," she said.

"You're as arrogant as me."

She chuckled. "Then you're right, this _will_ be a long ride."

And just like that, a new sensation arose between them as he genuinely laughed, once again. It was an actual moment of humor, not marred by any worn attitudes on the world. She was not used to interacting with him on a more pleasant level. Perhaps they were both in too much pain to be shits to the other. 

They stopped not long after that. Lana realized she was stranded up there until Clegane helped her down. When he turned around, she placed her hand in his, her other on his shoulder. As she dropped down, Stranger lightly bucked, pushing her off. She wrapped her arms around Clegane's neck for dear life, lest she land on her ankle. She _hated_ that kind of pain. He held her with one arm, the other touching the warhorse. 

"You're like a damned cat," he said with aggravation, quickly peeling her off of him. "He's getting tired of carrying two," he said with a tenderness for the horse and discarding her. As annoyed as she was about that, she appreciated the hidden meaning under there. He was capable of tending to something if he respected it enough. 

As she stood there, she felt the aches and pain in her body, specifically her left hip, her left shoulder, and a knot she could feel growing on her thigh, pulling her attention from him, and she decided to get over it.

It wasn't long until she and Arya walked over to an area that would work for the night while Clegane tied their horses. Arya was kind enough to let Lana lean into her so as not to use her ankle.

They dropped their bags, and Lana sat on the grass, groaning as she did so. She eventually just lied down and stared up at the leaves above. Her body felt broken. "I can gather some logs and wood. Let me know if you need anything," Arya said.

"Thank you, Arya. I am sorry I can't help."

The Stark girl went into the woods to pull out logs that they could sit on, and Clegane eventually helped her in finding some firewood. He picked up a large log all on his own, carried it over, and threw it on the ground with a deep _thud_. He got an ax from Stranger and began to chop at it. Lana felt utterly useless and knew she should try to gather twigs, at the very least. She sat up, gritting her teeth and squinting as she could tell she'd be feeling this pain deep in her bones for a few days. 

She rolled to a knee, the pain so strong that she felt it in her chest. She ignored it, tired of it, knowing she couldn't just lie there. 

"The fuck you going?" Clegane asked before chopping another piece of wood. 

"Trying to help," she said breathlessly.

He snorted. "An aging cunt is more useful than you," he said and began to gather the logs together. "Stay down. No point in injuring yourself further. You took a hard fall."

She wasn't going to fight that. She sat there and watched him place the wood together before going into the woods to gather kindling. Arya came back with a nice pile of twigs that she carried in both arms. Lana kept her gaze on where Clegane went until he turned around. She looked down at her hands that needed cleaning and smiled to herself. Just whenever she thought he went too far, he found a way to prove he wasn't a complete monster. 

As Clegane and Arya finished getting their area prepped, with a log for Lana to lean on, Arya grabbed some of the salted meat and said, "I am going to sit by the stream for a little bit."

"Be back before sundown," Lana said, cleaning her nails with a small blade, periodically glancing to the fire that was mostly smoldering logs. Arya leaving didn't really heighten any tension between Clegane and Lana, but their solitude was still there, and she was aware of it. As she racked her brain for something to say, he grunted, moving his armor with agitation from around his neck.

"How is your shoulder," Lana asked.

"It's just a flea bite, like I said," he grunted.

"It was a nasty bite."

"Don't act all concerned," he warned.

Lana sighed. She remembered the goods she got from the Inn and decided he could benefit from them. She rose in one motion, accepting all the pain that came with it. When she touched her toes on the ground, and her ankle barely held it, she decided to hop over to the horses.

"Where you hobbling off to? If you need something, just ask."

"To get something to help with your wound," she said. "Take your armor off, at least the shoulders. We need to look at it."

ººº

Clegane watched as Lana painfully limped, nearly hopping, to Arya's horse, fishing out something in her bag. His eyes were on her body, the leathers tight against her figure and that metal belt showing off her waist. With the Stark girl gone, his blood rushed south with little care. He had tried his best to ignore that desire, knowing it would only complicate everything, but _dammit_ , that woman was making it hard on him.

"I don't want to take my armor off. And the fuck is that?" he asked as Lana had something black in her hand, along with a few other things.

"This? I got some willow's bark from the Innkeeper. They had a willow tree," she said, slowly making her way over. If it weren't so close, he'd have gotten up to help. But he didn't want her to think he had grown soft.

"Doesn't answer my question."

"It's good for pain, fevers, and infections. You just chew a little bit at a time. I should actually chew on some too," she said, her eyes soft. 

"You a fucking Maester now?" he asked, hating it when someone looked at him with soft eyes. It made him feel weak and like the person wanted something from him.

"It's better than calling it just a flea bite. And yes, I know a few things about medicinal treatments. Part of my training with poisons," she retorted.

He could feel the sickness swelling in his shoulder. In truth, he didn't want to die because a mad cunt had bitten him. "Give it here," he ordered, and she handed him a literal piece of bark. He thought it might have just been called that, but no, it was just from a fucking tree. "And I just chew it?" he asked, turning it in his dirtied hands.

"Mhmm. Now take off some of the armor so I can look at it," she said, chewing on some herself. 

"I don't want to take my armor off," he said, chewing on it as well. It tasted like chewing on a piece of fucking bark.

"Please? We need you if we want to survive this wilderness. We can't have you slowing down," she said, and everything about her plea seemed genuine, as if she actually appreciated what he did for them. 

He sucked in as much air as his lungs could hold, dropping his hand with the bark in it. A tenuous gratitude rose in his chest from those words, striking a chord that rarely sang in him. He liked feeling needed, like when he aided Sansa from her rape, or when Arya leaned in after witnessing that atrocious wedding. Those girls were genuinely appreciative of him then. He looked Lana in her pretty, pale blue eyes that were attached to an annoyingly pretty face, even when it was dirty. The soft sunlight only made her more alluring. She was not the Stark girls, however. She was trained. 

And in that, a wrath rose in his chest. She was fucking using her little tricks on him, and it fucking worked for a small moment. Clegane knew that he was just a means to an end for her.

No, he didn't believe her that she wanted to help _him_. This was for her. She was a trained killer and knew how to manipulate people. She wouldn't make it far without him, especially with that bum ankle, and they both knew it. He looked away and began to remove his shoulder pad, as even though she was a fucking liar, he wasn't going to waste a good opportunity to properly treat his wounds. He didn't want to die a lame death like Robert Baratheon. 

"That should be enough," she said and walked over once his shoulder pad was removed.

"What's it look like?" he asked, a very small part of him afraid it would take over his body. He had seen it before. _Fire would clean it._ He'd nearly rather die than use fire. 

"I really should take the stitches out and re-clean it," she said with a defeated voice. "It's angry, red, and starting to puss."

"No, I don't want to take my armor off. It's a bitch to put back on," he said, not looking up. He felt slightly alone in all of this like no one truly cared if his actual presence left this world. As much as people liked to talk shit about him, he was still a person. He just frequently burned away any emotions that tried to come out, as Gregor did to any real future that Sandor may have had. 

His body tensed at the thought of his brother. No fucking way Sandor would die before that giant fucking cunt. 

"It needs cleaning," she pressed. 

"It needs you to stop meddling with it," he growled, growing angry at her false care. They always pretended to care when it was really just for themselves. Whatever was festering in his shoulder was messing with his mind. He knew that she needed to treat it, but a part of him wanted to prevent it, just to spite her and her manipulative ways.

"Now you sound like a six-year-old who doesn't want a splinter looked at," she said with a tone she hadn't taken with him yet. 

He looked up at her, reminded that she was a beautiful woman who had no business with a scarred, hostile man like him. That only made his obstinacy worse. "It's because you're in my face trying to make me eat this shit and trying to tend to my wounds," he said with the bark in hand.

"Get over it. Stop being an ass when someone is trying to care for you," she said, hands on her hips. 

He let out an incredulous laugh. "All because I am nothing but a sword to the two of you," he said with anger, his blood starting to run hot, his shoulder pulsing with pain.

"Ha! That's not true," she retorted. 

"Oh, it's not? You fucking already admitted that it's true, you dumb cunt," he said, his anger seemingly getting away from him. Perhaps it was because out of everything that he was doing, he just wanted some fucking peace. He just wanted to stop sacrificing himself for ungrateful shits.

And he couldn't trust her motives, and he was so fucking _tired_ of dealing with scheming cunts. 

"It's _also_ just as simple as I'd prefer if you didn't die, you fucking idiot," she said, a passion in her voice that just made him angrier.

He folded his lips in as he glared at her, ready to push her down so she'd have to put weight on that gimp ankle. "Why the fuck not? Look, I don't want lies. I want honesty. You want to travel like a man? Kill like a man? Be among men? Then use honesty, not the lies your assassin friends taught you. I know you don't give two shits if I die. You have no reason to care, other than I am here to make sure someone doesn't come along, rape you, then put a sword in your heart. Nearly got you already, with that scar on your belly."

She looked truly angered at his words, her eyes cold, like a killer. At least she was honest about that part of her. "Oh, you're just so _stubborn!_. I don't want you dead because Westeros is a place of flamboyancy, false chivalry, and shitheads around every corner. I half expected these lands to be filled with men of honor from all the tales and stories of knighthood, but those fuckers barely have any dents in their armor. At least _you're_ genuine in that sense. I still have _no_ fucking idea what you want or what your motives are, but I genuinely don't think you'll kill or brutally rape me, and surprisingly, that counts for a fuck ton out here."

He leaned back with a laugh, his tone mordant. "That's not very logical."

She nearly stamped her foot but stopped before it hit the ground. He snickered, as she was too injured even to do that. "Oh, shut up. You always complain about whinging, and that's all you're doing right now."

All of his amusement froze. He didn't blink as they glared at each other. Then, he stood up, some deep instinct in him telling him to slap her or break her hands, or hell, just put a sword through her and be done with it. 

"Go on," she threatened. 

He stopped all movement. This woman was a right piece of work. Then he worried that maybe it wasn't a good thing that she didn't fear him. "Maybe I should teach you not to talk to me like that," he said cruelly. "Maybe I made a mistake in letting you think I am not a danger to you. Maybe I should fuck you until you're crying, tie you up again so you can't stop me. Would be nice to fuck something whenever I wanted," he threatened. 

This woman didn't respect him at all in that way, not like when they first met. She feared him then. 

Fear was the only control he knew.

"Well, either get it over with or let me treat the damned wound. Pick one. This is getting old," she stated her tone and eyes unyielding.

He wanted to slap her so hard her jaw broke. He wanted to toss Lana over his shoulder, tie the bitch up, and put her on a horse and send her off. He wanted to make her walk for miles on that gimp ankle before letting her back on a horse. The fucking _audacity_ on this cunt...and yet, her utter brashness made him consider her words.

Instead of hurting her, he glowered and sat back down, chewing on the stupid fucking bark. The damned bitch was right. He was whinging. 

He _hated_ whinging.

A small, hot sigh came from her. "I take it I can treat you?" she asked, her voice trying to calm, but it was still laced with the ire she had moments ago.

"No, I just like to fucking chew on Willow's Bark for the damned taste," he said.

He saw the corner of her lips quiver as she tried not to laugh. Fuck it. He had no fucking idea of how to handle this woman. She was so beyond anything familiar to him, and his attraction to her just made everything that much more complicated. 

"Good," she said. She helped him take off the rest of his armor, despite it annoying every part of him that she was helping him. He pulled his shirt down to reveal his festering wound. He let out a painful groan as she cut out the stitches. Fuck, it hurt. 

"I just realized," she said with clarity. "I can sprinkle some salt into this. Would really help dry up the puss and give me a better look at it."

"Trying to torture me?" he asked, his voice cracking. 

"It's supposed to help," she said gently and went over to her bag, still nearly hopping. Out of everything, her quiet persistence was something that he could openly respect. "Ocean water is good for wounds. It dries up the puss and wet parts, and always makes things better, for the most part. Didn't really need it before, but might be worth a shot here."

"Is it fucking necessary?"

"I'd rather be safe than sorry," she said with the kindest voice. 

He sighed and grunted before looking down. "Should have never left King's Landing. None of this worth it. Salt my wound if you must." 

"You can have some milk of the poppy."

"Fuck that shit," he said, scowling at her. She gently nodded and neared him. She put salt in it, and he grimaced. Luckily it seemed to be just in a small area, but it still burned. He gnawed hard on the bark, feeling good to clench his teeth on something. She pulled back with a defeated sigh. "It needs to be cut out. There is a small bit that is completely infected. It's not much, but I need to get it off of you."

He sighed, his eyes languidly rolling in her direction. He was getting real tired of this shit. Then she said, "I know you don't like fire, but give me a compromise. Let me cut it out with a hot blade."

"If you fucking-"

"Get over it, Clegane," she said. He was just shocked at this point. Incredulous. This woman had no sense of respecting who he was, and yet it didn't feel right smacking her in the head anymore. The fuck was he supposed to do? Was he really going to let her talk to him like that? His only other option was to hurt her. "That infection is going to get worse. I can salt it, put honey on it and what have you, but that's only to going to delay the inevitable, not fix it. Unless you know of a Maester around the corner, you're fucked."

Her grim tone and pleading eyes allowed him to see the gravity of this. He trusted a killer telling him that he was fucked, as they knew death. "We can do the hot blade," he said, thinking back to her yelling at him for whinging. He wasn't going to whinge. "Wish we had wine."

She hopped over to one of the horses, her breasts bouncing even though they were restrained. He was tempted to make a lewd statement, but she was his key to making sure this damned infection got healed.

She threw a flagon at him once within range, then pulled out her dagger and held it over the flames.

"What is this?" he asked, opening it up with a _pop_ of the cork.

"I stole it from the Inn. It's wine."

He suppressed a smile. "What? How? I didn't see you take this."

"I knew you'd drink it right away, so stole it when you were busy eating your chickens."

He didn't say anything, the temptation to trust her snaking back in, and he wanted to keep that shit out. He drank until his belly was hot with wine, taking in a breath afterward. She hobbled over to him. 

"I need you to hold onto me since I can't trust my ankle. Or at least let me rest my bag leg on yours. I want to make sure I am steady, so I only have to do it once," she said. 

He nodded, just wanting this over with, eyeing the dagger that was bright orange and glowing. She came near, and she put her knee on his leg, and he placed his hand on her hip to steady her. He didn't give two shits about her body at the moment, not looking forward to this in the slightest. "Do it," he growled. He'd save the rest of the wine for after. For when he could smell it. In all the pain he felt as a child when his face healed, the smell was the most haunting part of it all.

He turned his head and placed the willow bark between his teeth, biting down as she grabbed his shoulder. He could feel the heat of the blade near his skin, and it took everything he had not to fucking toss her for bringing such a heat close to his body. She stuck the blade in his flesh and swiped. 

Thank the fucking gods she knew how to use a blade. 

She poured water on it immediately after. Then he smelled it. It was nothing like flesh burning from being caught on fire, but it was similar enough. He drained the rest of the flagon. 

"Leave your armor off for the night and let your wound breath," she said with a soft voice and backed away from him.

He breathed heavily, adrenaline and wine in his heart. "You know I would have skinned most people that pressed a hot blade on my skin."

"You're welcome," she said dryly. 

He laughed. The fuck was wrong with this woman? He watched her as she cleaned off the blade, leaning against a tree. She might be conniving, but her capability to handle being crushed by a horse in a rocky river, and then cut out his putrid flesh was to be admired. She was wiry and resilient. 

Then he wondered if she really was being honest with him? What if she trusted him, just slightly more than the rest of the men in Westeros? What if she wasn't entirely manipulating him?

He groaned, the pain, wine, and infection getting to him. No, him thinking good of her had to be the wine talking. It was too risky to accept otherwise.

While his mind ran with theories on Lana, his eyes took in the detail of her shape. She glanced his way, catching him, and he was utterly shameless about it. Fuck it, he wanted her, and he didn't care. He wanted to see if she really was a virgin or not, and if she were, he'd enjoy popping _that_ cherry. She was such a shit to him that he'd make sure she'd never forget him. 

Instead of an arrogant statement from her, her eyes gently widened, keen on him. His gaze fell back to her breasts as she was breathing heavier. She wanted him too. Her being a killer and wanting to fuck him were the only things he felt comfortable trusting about her.

Seeing that woman flushed while giving him that look...he snickered and put down the empty flagon. 

He stood, his jaw jut to the side as he eyed her once more, and then he walked over to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all of you for the support!!! Seriously, I know I am a broken record right now, but it just means so much that people enjoy the story enough to let me know. It's like attempting to be a chef, trying a new recipe, and getting feedback that someone liked it. You guys are wonderful! 
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER TITLE: Can't Stay Awake


	15. Hair that Smells of Lavender

Clegane approached her, and there was something to him having no armor on that made him seem exposed, and in that, Lana saw him differently. She saw him more like a man rather than a solider, and it aided in her lack of fear of him. He could have slapped her by now, hurt her, followed through with any of his threats, but he didn't. He accepted her help, even if it was begrudgingly. 

If he hadn't opened up to Arya about his past, Lana might have refused to help him once he started behaving like a jackass. But she remembered that he was a lonely bastard, living among manipulators and dishonesty. He had no option but to become the Hound, and she was a fool if she thought that that was easy to break. She knew many men like him, and most went to the grave without ever changing. 

As long as he didn't hurt her anymore, she would help him. The fact that he hadn't, after her use with a hot blade, told her more than any words he could give her. 

"You keep throwing those looks my way," he said with a rasp, his gaze intensifying as he neared her, staring into her like he was trying to read every small movement that she made.

Lana bit her lip and smiled as she looked down. He was so close that she could hear his footsteps. He even placed a hand on the tree she leaned against, and she looked up. He was right there, eyeing her, his thick arm next to her head. His shirt was loose, and she could see his chest was covered in a thin layer of hair. 

She wondered if the wine had got to him, but he seemed more in pain than inebriated. She guessed that made sense. For the size of him, that wasn't much wine. 

She decided to be honest with him, not out of any tomfoolery, but because something about him drove her mad. It was a rare thing for her to feel something genuine for someone else. "I know, I really shouldn't throw those looks," she said, a slight coyness about her. She really knew that she shouldn't indulge in him. It would complicate everything, making it difficult for him to become her guard, and it would create an awkward balance if they acted on it. "But fuck it, I just can't seem to stop."

He clenched his jaw, his eyes slowly roaming her face and neck as he spoke. "You realize me fucking you doesn't change anything? I am not going to fight any harder for you because of it. I'm not a fucking knight. I don't do shit like that."

She took in a slow breath, not sure what to make of this honesty. She rubbed one of her eyes as her mouth was agape, not sure what to say. _Is he being a vulnerable right now? Honest, maybe? Is he trying to figure me out as well?_ She raised a brow and looked back up to him. "I am aware. So there, happy? You win," she said. She knew she should have backed off then, and yet, she didn't.

She just couldn't seem to. 

His eyes vibrated in his skull as he bore an obscure gaze into her. _What is he battling with in there? Shouldn't he be yammering on about fucking me now_ ?

As his eyes dropped to her lips, Arya yelled, "I got some dinner!" 

They both nearly jumped, turning around to see that the Stark girl was walking in their direction, championing a fish in either hand. Clegane took in a deep breath and said under his breath, "She has the worst fucking timing." He turned around, his hand sliding against the bark with a rough sound before he walked back to the log he was sitting on.

Lana nearly told Arya to go back to the river so she could continue this conversation with Clegane, wondering what in the seven hells was going through his head. But with how proud Arya was, there was no way Lana could do that. Lana smiled at Arya and then said to Clegane. "Let me put some honey on the wound to help with the scabbing. I'd also leave your armor off for the night to let it breathe and let the honey do its job."

He grunted in return as he sat back down. As Arya approached, arms dropped with either fish in hand, Lana asked, "How'd you catch those?"

"With one of the sticks I sharpened."

Lana smirked, a curious pride forming inside of her. "You are more resourceful than you look."

"Father never took me fishing, but I overheard the boys talk about it a lot. Figured I'd give it a try," Arya said, unable to suppress her satisfaction.

Lana eyed the girl as she got the fish ready to be skinned. There was something about those words, and that pride on her face, that saddened Lana. Arya's smiled seemed so out of place, like it belonged to a ghost who lived in the past. That struck something deep in Lana. _These wars are more brutal than dying. Truly, it is best to mourn the living, for the dead can't hear us, and those remaining are stuck in their sorrows_. 

Lana's mood was dampened form those thoughts as she moved over to Clegane, who stared at the fire, his eyes ruminating. Clegane mostly ignored Lana as she helped him, and she was desperate to know what was going on inside of his head. Perhaps the burn brought back dark memories? He wasn't this pensive often. 

"Is his wound worse?" Arya asked with slight concern in her voice, distracting Lana.

"It was. Cut it off with a hot blade," Lana said, leaving him be and trying to reassure Arya with a smile. Lana sat down by her log and nearly crawled about to find some sticks to tie around her ankle for support.

"He doesn't like fire," Arya reminded, holding the sticks over the flames, cooking the fish.

"Still fucking don't," Clegane finally rumbled, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"How'd you convince him of that?" Arya asked, turning over the fish. 

"It helps when you have a nice pair of tits," Clegane said, although there was more intimidation that banter in his eyes, which still watched the dancing flames. Lana held her tongue, although the corner of her mouth crooked. 

Arya's face contorted. "Oh, shut up," Arya scolded and nearly threw the stick of fish at him.

"It's true," he said darkly, a slight humor finally coming to him.

Lana looked at Clegane and said, "Well, if I had known that, I would have just shown my tits when it first happened. You'd be a lot less slow by now." 

To her shock, Clegane laughed, still looking at the fire. "Maybe I'll find myself stabbed on accident soon. Could use some more healing," he said, his gaze cutting over to her. As soon as their eyes connected, his eyes revved with carnality before he looked back to the fire. 

"Wait, is he drunk?" Arya asked with reproach. "I smell wine."

"Hits his system faster when he hasn't drank in a while," Lana said with a smile. "But aye, he had some wine."

"You shouldn't have given him wine," Arya said with a miserable tone.

"It's not been called liquid courage for nothing."

Once the fish was ready, Lana's belly was grumbling like bubbling water. And yet, as Arya walked over with a serving of fish and cheese, Lana held her hand up. "Give it to him," she said. Arya glanced to Clegane.

Finally, that seemed to provoke something in him. "You need to eat," Clegane said, looking her way.

"You need it more. Your body will be fighting your shoulder, and you just drank a bunch of wine."

"You're already growing thin. Eat something," he said with the rare serious tone. 

"I'll eat in the morning when we share some bread."

It took more convincing, but once the food started to grow cold, he ate it, and she went to bed hungry that night. She doubted, more like hoped, that they would be hungry for long.

She didn't look at him for the rest of the night. Even though his sheer size while donning armor was impressive, there was just something about the unadorned Clegane that really illustrated the virility of his arms, hands, and shoulders. It made Lana's mind grind to a halt. On top of all of that, she was starting to notice a fondness for him. Ever since he yelled at Arya about the fire and revealed that his emotions were deeper than fury. He seemed like a real man, just one who had been scarred and jaded.

A part of her still regretted not eating the fish; however, as sleep was impossible to come by that night with her stomach clawing at her from the inside out.

 

°°°

In the morning, Lana and Arya aided Clegane in putting his armor back on. He was in an unpleasant mood. Lana didn't know if that was from her or his shoulder. It prompted her to ask, "How is the pain?"

"Better," he curtly said. 

She left it at that and continued about their morning, too tired to deal with him that day. Lana seemed to be able to put slightly more weight on her ankle, especially with the sticks giving her support. As long as she didn't put her full weight on it, it was alright. She cleaned up her area and readied her things back on Arya's horse. She couldn't stop yawning, her eyes watering more and more. She passed around pieces of nearly stale bread, and it seemed to wake her up for a time. 

When they were ready to go, Clegane helped her up on Stranger, with her legs dangling off of the side. 

It wasn't long into the ride that she started to yawn again, her eyes with near permanent tears flooding her vision. On top of her hunger, she kept having nightmares about men returning from the Shadow Lands. 

She was essentially without sleep today.

Clegane's mood was definitely fowler, and it reminded her he was still the Hound. It resulted in the ride being rather silent. The slow sway of her body on Stranger didn't help either as it tempted to lull her into sleep. When the sun was at midday, its warm rays wrapped around her like a blanket and she was struggling to stay awake. Her head started to bobble back and forth, and she jolted awake, her heart racing as she looked around.

"Didn't sleep well?" Clegane finally asked, although his tone was still miserable.

"Nightmares," she said, not wanting to mention that she had been hungry as well.

"Well stop falling asleep. You're going to throw yourself from the damned horse," he warned.

She tried her best and kept opening her eyes, staring wide-eyed in the distance. _Can't sleep if my eyes are open._ But it didn't work, and her eyes started to go cross-eyed, resulting in her nearly falling asleep again. She was exhausted, pure and simple. She was reaching the end of her stamina, needing just one good night's of sleep with a full belly. 

Lana's eyelids started to droop, and she thought of cinnamon cake and coffee. She loved it together and would buy it after every mission as a treat. But she knew those treats were far away, as those were Essos luxuries.

Her head started to fall over again, and she gave in to the sweet temptation of sleep. Unfortunately, along with it, she lost her balance. She jolted awake again, pulling on Clegane's armor as she felt her stability disappear.

"The fuck did I just say?" he growled, more hostile than ever.

Lana could see why Arya had developed such an attitude towards Clegane.

He really was angrier than usual today, and it made him a hard traveling companion. "Well, usually, I'd just fall asleep on my horse. Can't do that, obviously," she said, returning the attitude. "If it bothers you so much just leave me on the ground and I'll catch up to you when I've rested my eyes for a few hours. It's not like we are moving very fast," she said, grumpy herself.

Clegane let out a sound that was a mixture of a sigh and growl. For a moment, Lana was awake from the surge of anger. But of course, sleep was like a poison in her veins, and she felt her lids start to droop. Fuck it. She needed to sleep, and since she was the odd man out, she'd take the risk for staying back. "Just leave me behind. I can't stay awake," she commanded.

Clegane didn't respond, and she was getting tired of this. She was about to get angrier, but he cut her off. "Quit your whinging. You can lean in and sleep if you must. I'll make sure you don't fall off. Don't need you staying here by yourself."

She didn't say anything in return, as she didn't know whether to be witty or grateful. It was a rather significant turn from him leaving her tied to a tree. With a heavy head, she leaned against his armored chest and closed her eyes. She drifted in and out of sleep, as she was in one of the least comfortable positions of her life, bouncing back and forth against a suit of armor, but it was enough to regain her energy.

 

°°°

The pale haired woman laid her head against his chest, her greasy hair was tightly braided. He could feel her drifting off into sleep, as the longer she was like that, the more her weight leaned into him. It wasn't long before her arm fell from the grip she had on his armor, going limp. She must have been exhausted if sleep found her that quickly.

He didn't want her to do this. He didn't want her to be kind to him. Her care was annoying and made him think of things that spurred a discomfort in his chest. And then she started to lean even further into him like a rag doll that he was keeping propped up. He knew she was exhausted and probably hungry, which was only because she gave him her food.

Dumb bitch should have eaten her fish.

He clenched his jaw. Even thinking about calling her a dumb bitch struck something wrong in him, and _that_ is what worried him the most. No one should be above his ridicule. At some point in her sleep, repositioning as one does, she nestled into his chest for a better position. That spurred an instinctive, carnal feeling that he felt was right up there with killing. Of course, every man felt a surge of pride to have a woman rest against them. He imagined it was as similar to a woman enjoying when a man gutted another in defense of her. It was a senseless reaction, coming from such a primal place. And that was the problem, as it was hard to control.

He glanced down to her, only able to see the top of her head. She started to slip, and he adjusted both him and her so he could keep an arm on her to prevent her from falling.

How the fuck they all ended up in this position was laughable. Each one was someone who should have been sleeping on a soft bed with food in their bellies, and here they were trying to outrun the Lannisters. 

But Lana was in this predicament because she couldn't protect herself. Not against Lannisters who wanted her for a bounty. As tough as she was, it showed him just how much she would really need someone to look after her. She was trained to take cheap shots, not deal with armored soldiers. And if she were going to enter a war for the throne, she'd be facing plenty more plated men. Whether or not _he_ took up the offer didn't matter, as _someone_ would have to do the job. It made him wonder why shouldn't he do it? It was a wasted opportunity for gold.

He sighed. This was precisely why he didn't like her giving him those looks, laughing at his jokes, and not bothered in the slightest by his face. Everything about her played right into the weakness that every man had. She was a glass sword, making others respect how sharp its edge was, but they were easy to shatter. It was natural for someone like him to want to be her sheath.

And like usual, he tried to squash those thoughts. But for one of the first times, he just couldn't do it. The longer she rested against him, the more he wanted to go with her to Essos. She needed someone like him, and it gave him some kind of meaning. It reminded him of when he was entering manhood and learned that he would have the highest honor of guarding the future king.

And look at what a cunt he turned out to be.

Everything was always spoiled in the end.

He knew it would just be a matter of time before this was spoiled as well, before she was a shit lady like all the rest of them.

And yet he savored it.

°°°  
Finally, after a time of fading in and out of sleep, Lana was able to open her eyes and keep them that way, rubbing them with her free hand.

She looked around for a long while before saying, "Thanks. That helped." Like his usual manner, he didn't respond.

It wasn't until she straightened her back to adjust her position that she realized how much she was still leaning into him. She looked ahead with the faintest smile at this revelation. She knew him enough by now to know that when they first met, he would have told her to stop leaning in the second she awoke. Hell, he probably would have left her at this point, or made her trade horses with Arya. 

She didn't get much time to really consider the small gesture, as they saw smoke in the distance. "Should we go to it?" Arya asked.

"Could be a house or an inn. Worth scouting," Clegane said.

"I could use some food," Arya said.

"This one could use a bed," Clegane said, and Lana pressed her lips together to prevent a laugh.

"I could use both a bed and some food," Lana said.

They rode up to the Inn that had a sign painted The Sleeping Pig. Lana thought that the Westerosi were always so entertaining with their names. Clegane got off of Stranger, and without a word, he helped her down. For such an irritable man he was much more helpful than he ever led on. They walked in, Lana doing her best to cover her limp, and they were greeted with the smell of bacon, smoke, and some kind of drink. A large hearth was burning at the end with a rowdy group of men sitting by it, a young woman in one of the men's laps.

Lana went to what must have been the Innkeeper's wife and handed her some coppers for some ale and beds, which were just stuffed sacks filled with hay in a shared cellar. "Don't see many women on the road," the woman said with a smile, her teeth comparably clean. In fact, Lana noticed she was mostly clean all over.

"It's a beautiful country, but it's not very forgiving," Lana said with a smile.

"You look like you could use a bath, dear," she said, tucking her graying hair behind her ear, her green eyes warm.

"Even if you offered one, I don't think I'd bathe in one that other men have used," Lana said with a slight grimace.

"Nonsense, for a few extra coppers I'll let you use the bath in my private house. It's always cleaned after every use."

Lana furrowed her brow. "Really?"

"We got a flowing river right by the house. Collecting water is easy. Like I said, for a few extra coppers. I only offer 'cause you like you could use it. Like to help the women that pass by," she said with dignity.

"Have you offered it before?"

"Only to those who really needed it. I take great pride in our hospitality, even if the sleeping arrangement isn't ideal."

Lana grinned, shrugging her shoulders. "Sure, why not."

"I'll even throw in a bit of lavender to make it smell better," she said like a chef who was throwing in an extra serving. Lana didn't know if she found that endearing or concerning. 

"That's very kind," Lana said, still not sure if she should trust the woman.

"Of course," the woman said, smiling. "Now here are the mugs for your ale. Be at the house around sundown? I will be having a fire going for dinner, so it will be easy to boil water."

"I really appreciate it."

Lana walked over to where Arya and Clegane were, placing three empty mugs on the wooden table. She sat next to Clegane, preferring to face the rowdy men. They got served a large meal of chicken, pig, and potatoes with some ale. "I'll never take food for granted again," Arya said with her mouth full of potatoes.

"Maybe all lord and ladies should live a year of hardship to teach them a lesson or two," Clegane said as he ate. Lana had to slow herself, as she was starting to feel sick from inhaling her food.

"Sansa wouldn't last a day out here," Arya said, drinking her stew.

Clegane snickered with a piece of bread in his hand. "She's the kind of person I had in mind when mentioning that. Although the girl is going to endure more hardships, just in a different way."

Arya paused. "Do you think they'll kill her?" she asked Clegane.

"Doubt it, but then again, the Lannisters never fail to surprise me."

"I wonder what happened to her since Joffrey is dead," Arya asked, slowing down in her consumption.

"Hell if I know. Highgarden is supposed to live with them now. Maybe she'll get to marry the knight of flowers. It's just up to her alley."

Lana was too busy stuffing her face to join in on the conversation, downing her ale. She leaned back when she realized she had too much, noticing that the sun was already beginning to set. The ale seemed to go straight to her head. "I paid for a bath at the main house. I am going to go help boil the water," she said, wanting just to slip out and enjoy a nice, warm bath rather than have a conversation. Her body still ached, and the thought of a bath was more distracting than she realized.

"A _bath?_ " Clegane asked, and Arya watched on.

"I could really use the warm water, and to clean myself. Might help with the aches. Do you want one Arya? I'll pay for it," Lana asked.

"No, thanks. I'll just use the river," Arya said, wiping her mouth.

"I'll be back, then," Lana said, standing, feeling completely fat now. Although she was alright with that. She needed all the fat she could get with this journey, lest they went with a few more days of no food.

Clegane slammed his mug down, gutturally trilling from draining his drink. "You're not going alone to anywhere private. It's not safe. _Especially_ while taking a fucking bath," he said, his eyes condescending. 

"What about Arya?"

"I'll stay right here. Nobody will touch me in here."

"Well, no, she needs someone to look after her," Lana implored, the laughing men at the hearth concerning her. They might be innocuous, but she generally didn't trust men gathering, especially once they had been drinking.

"I am fine, Lana. There's plenty of people here," Arya said. Lana looked around to a few men that dined alone, two women working to bring ale and food. Arya _had_ proven herself so far.

"Well, now, I feel bad. I didn't want you to stop drinking to go watch guard," she said to Clegane.

"You're always yammering away about me becoming your guard. The fuck do you think someone does when they are a guard? Make signs that says there's a naked woman in a bath in yonder direction, ready for a nice rape? Water's warm, lads."

She stared at his hard brown eyes, then finally broke into a small chuckle. "Fine. When you put it so eloquently."

He sniggered and rose from the table. "Yell if you need something, we aren't far," he said to Arya. "Always go for the heart, balls, or neck."

Arya nodded, a devious smile on her face. Lana was surprised by the girl. She was shaping up to be quite the killer. 

They exited the Inn, and she took in a deep breath of the crisp air, the home no more than a stone's throw away. She nearly shivered from joy, as it was a perfect night for a bath. She entered the private home as the Inn Keeper's wife was making a stew and helped bring the boiling water to the bath while Clegane drank more ale. Lana was certain this was a trap, as she was not used to genuine strangers. Although when the wife didn't object to Clegane, and with each bucket poured into the wooden tub, Lana thought that maybe she had just gotten lucky.

The Innkeeper's wife finally brought in a large bundle of lavender and put it in the water. Lana thought that maybe they were poison, but the wife said, "Don't worry your pretty little face off. It's fine."

"You seem to understand my concern," Lana said, eyeing the steamy water.

"Everyone is when they take one," she said, walking to the door that Clegane sat outside of.

"Then why offer it?"

"I am fond of baths myself, and I know how hard those roads can be on someone," she said, looking over her shoulder. 

"Well, if there truly is nothing nefarious here, then I thank you."

"I thank your purse that gave me the coppers. Figured it's an easy way to lake an extra income."

And with that, Lana was left alone in the bathing room. She quickly stripped herself of her clothes and climbed in, her bones nearly melting as the warm water enveloped her. It was amazing on her ankle. She dunked her head in and nearly cried from how wonderful it felt. Well, if this _were_ a trap and she was to die, then at least it was probably the best death she could have asked for. But time eventually passed, and the water grew cold, and the smell of lavender was everywhere. She had scrubbed her hair with some soap that also smelled of lavender and thought it was funny that the Innkeeper's wife was so fond of the fragrance. Lana preferred vanilla but knew that was a spice of Essos.

She dried off and put on her dirty clothes again. It might seem counter-intuitive, but it felt good to have clean hair and skin. She walked out of the small room.

"Well, was it worth it?" Clegane asked, looking her up and down before standing.

"Oh, yes. I am very fond of warm baths," she said, nearly glowing with joy.

"Sounds spoiled to me," he said and followed her out the home. The sun was already set, and Arya was outside practicing her swordsmanship with Needle glinting in the moonlight.

"What is life without a bit of spoiling?" Lana asked, the crisp night air chilling as her hair was still wet. She missed her warm bath already.

"It's called honest work," he said, and they walked towards Arya.

"Learn to indulge Clegane. As we have learned, all it takes is a flea bite," she said, to which he snorted. 

Before settling in, they all paid for a little extra hygiene to brush their teeth with bristles tied to a stick and got a cloth to wipe their armor with. The Sleeping Pig really seemed to understand how to upsell what they offered, and the Innkeeper's wife unquestionably valued hygiene. It now made sense why she had white teeth and clean clothes.

All three settled in early for the night down in the cellar which had twenty giant bags of hay, and Clegane had to take three. They didn't pay for the extra, as only ten people were sleeping in there that night. They chose the area by the wall in the very back so Arya would sleep against it, then Lana, then Clegane. It was a rather spacious cellar, with a few small holes cut out at the top for windows, where the roof breached the ground.

In the middle of the night, Lana woke up with that annoying need to make water. She decided to indulge in her bladder rather than deal with it for the rest of the night. She carefully stepped over the sleeping Clegane, avoiding the other men the best that she could in the dark. She went into the woods, the moon still high and bright in the sky, undid her pants and squatted. 

She pulled her pants back up once she was finished, twigs and leaves cracking underfoot, her ears keen on whoever was following her. She figured it was one of the men staying or stopping for the night. Then she felt the air behind her grow dull like the sound was taken up by a body. She drew out a dagger, ducked and took a deep step back.

"You're crafty," a voice said in the dark. It was a dirty man, taller than her, and surprisingly well built. She couldn't see his face all that well in the darkness. "You're not," she replied, too tired for this. "Leave me be. I don't want trouble," she said. She took a few steps back and walked back towards the cellar. She _really_ didn't want to deal with this, nor shed blood on the property of that sweet woman who drew her a bath.

Lana heard him follow, and she rolled her eyes. Then she heard him move with speed, and she turned around, ready to gut the fucker, but someone else had grabbed his neck like he was nothing more than a hare being caught by a wolf. She smiled and felt an immense sense of relief and safety when she saw him, for it was no wolf, but a hound.

Clegane pulled him to his face while the man clawed at Clegane's armored arm. "Tell your little friends that if any of you decide to stalk either of the two women accompanying me, for the rest of the night, or in the morning, I will rip out your balls and rape the new hole while it's still warm and wet." He dropped the man, and he ran off, nearly falling over as he coughed and grabbed his neck.

"I nearly had him," Lana said jokingly.

"Aye, but it's like you say, you're not very threatening," he said, and his tone had entirely no play in it. He took a step toward her, nearly double the size of the man that stalked Lana. "And you're small. And you're better looking than any of the whores they've been with. Next time you wander off for a midnight piss, you wake me first."

She had to prevent herself from smiling. "Is it fair to say you want to take up my offer to be my guard?"

He sighed. "Might be considering it. And only if you don't make it hard on me. No more of this shit, with sneaking off in the night."

"Deal," she said, warming her tone.

They walked back to their beds that was encased in stone. Lana lied there, so close to Sandor, and a devious part of her wished he'd just reach out in the night to put his hands on her. She started to wonder if he was the kind of man to hold his woman at night, to caress her softly, or use gentle hands reserved only for her. It seemed so odd to picture him doing any of those things, and yet she was desperate to find out.

As she pondered on the man lying next to her, sleep eventually found her, and it was a good, hard sleep, not worried in the least that someone would hurt her or Arya. Not with Clegane between them and the others. 

When she woke, she was more startled than rested, although it quickly faded. She was not used to a prickly hay bed or a rock ceiling above her. She had nearly forgotten about her bath, but the smell of her clean, wavy hair reminded her of everything that had happened.

The small window above Arya revealed the softest sunlight. _It's still early_. Lana tried to go back to bed, but she felt utterly refreshed and realized she would not sleep until the sun set again. She sat up and saw that Clegane was still in a deep sleep, along with the wolf girl who was gently snoring, facing the wall. It would be a few hours before either woke, and she didn't want just to lie there. Lana decided that at the very least, she could sit by the door where there was fresh air. 

he only downfall to the cellar was the stench from the men inside.

She flipped over to her knees and took a step over Clegane, trying her best not to wake him. She must have last time she snuck out.

In an attempt to extra careful and quiet, she took a significant step over him but forgot about her bum ankle, and she put weight on it in just the wrong way. Her other knee buckled in response to alleviate the weight, touching the ground next to Sandor along with her hand, parts of her inner thigh grazing him as she fell. His eyes shot open, and his arms reached out, gripping her hip and shoulder, ready to toss her. She grimaced from how hard he gripped her.

But when he saw her, he froze, his grip loosening. She was essentially straddling him without touching him. His gaze had gone from anger to shock, then to complete judgment.

"What did we _just_ talk about?"

"I was only going to the door to sit in the fresh air. Smells like body odor in here," she whispered, her hair starting to fall to the side of his face.

"Well, go on, and get your hair out of my face."

"Now, I worked hard to wash it. It smells good, like lavender," she said quietly.

A dark look came over his eyes. "That's the problem," he warned, and their eyes locked as she realized he could smell the softness of the sweet herb, and of course, it probably got his blood flowing south. She didn't break the gaze, and instead, slowly raised a brow, lost in her own desire. He scowled. "Fucking quit with that look. Now get the fuck off of me," he warned.

There it was again. The warm rush of everything electrifying and Lana's body seemed to react on its own. Lana's muscles relaxed, her hips gently falling, her body leaning into his grasp as she didn't want to get off.

He looked down where her groin was nearly touching his body, and his eyes were overcome with a controlling, insatiable look. If they were alone, based on that grip, his girth, and that look, he'd completely ravish the shit out of her here and now. She knew she needed to pull away, but with Arya snoring and facing the wall, and the other's snoring as well, she felt alone with him. She breathed heavier, unable to peel herself away.

Then he shocked her by rising into a sitting position. He didn't let go of her, which forced her weight into his lap, her legs straddling him as they stared at each other. He didn't say anything, his eyes trailing her face. Warm vibrations rippled through her, and common sense was thrown out the window. She couldn't help it. To see him fight off his desire, and to see him _losing_ that fight...it made her lose in her own as well.

And _fuck_ did she want him. She moved her head in and placed her lips on his, pressing hard into his face. 

In moments like those, time moved incredibly slow, and it was enough that she worried he might completely reject her as she kissed him. Then he pulled her hips closer, scooting her, so that was utterly no space between her groin and his, her breasts touching his chest, kissing harder into her. His hand gripped the small of her back, pulling her even closer into him as her nose dug into his stubbled cheek. He was quick, and passionate, and _hungry_. 

He growled into the kiss, and the sound seemed to unsettle him as he pulled away, rising himself as he quietly grumbled, "Get off."

She eyed him, panting. All worry was assuaged when she saw the look in his eyes. He didn't push her off because he didn't want it, that was certain. Someone stirred behind them, and she was reminded that they were not alone in here. 

She threw Clegaene a look that she had used before to entice other men, although this time it came from a genuine place in her, Clegane having earned it. She turned around, slowly stepping around the others, favoring her bad ankle. She sat in the doorway, still panting, her back to him as she couldn't dare to look at him now. The air was fresh, and the morning was full of a mist that put dew on everything it touched. She breathed deeply, still feeling his hands on her, the way there was almost no space between their bodies. She had actually _kissed_ him.

She heard something move. She thought it was another man, but she knew it was Clegane based on the clinking of armor. As he walked out of the door, she quietly asked, "Where you going?"

"Need to gut someone, or _something_. Fuck you for that," he said and walked away. 

"I was hoping you would," she said, unable to stop herself, enjoying the shit of indulging in him. He paused, slowly turned to glower at her. He looked like he was about to say something, but curtly turned around and walked off towards the Inn. She quietly said to herself, mocking him, "Don't toy with me, woman."

She smiled, enjoying that she got to him, as he most definitely got to her. 

After a time, she saw him walk to the stables to ready the horses while Lana remained to let Arya sleep. Lana would have to continue riding on Stranger for now, as they had none for sale here. 

Then she realized - she'd have to ride on Stranger, after kissing Clegane. 

And her hair smelled like lavender.

She swallowed thickly, rubbing her lips together as she watched him water the horses.

She had nearly forgotten that at some point they'd reach the Eyrie, and he would be off to give Arya to her aunt. Lana knew she couldn't join them for that, as she heard too many rumors about Lysa, and she didn't trust her in the slightest. 

And yet, Lana didn't want to leave Clegane either. At least she'd have to think about what to do with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE! Your comments seriously motivated me. Fanfiction is one of those things that is mostly enjoyable when I get to interact with the readers and see what they are thinking. So thank you so much to everyone that left a comment. It really motivated me. I love all of you!!! I hope you guys enjoyed this one and don't be afraid to let me know what your thoughts are :D I love all feedback!


	16. Leaving Westeros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They all ate, pissed, and quenched their thirst before refilling their flagons and meeting back at the horses. The dew had started to dry up, their saddles only slightly moist by the hour that they left. 

Arya got on her white horse, and Lana stood next to Stranger, although she waited for Clegane before fully approaching. The black warhorse always bit anyone that wasn't his master. Arya began to ride towards the road as Clegane neared Lana; his proximity meaning something entirely different for her now.

“Try not to suck my dick while we are on the horse,” he said, hoisting her up. 

She laughed, shaking her head, sucking her tongue to the front of her teeth. “You’ll need about three baths before I even _think_ about that.”

He snickered, getting on behind her, and she wrapped her arm around him for stability, shifting her hips to get more comfortable. He placed his usual arm behind her, and the other over her legs. He said, “Bet by the end of the week, you’d do it anyway.”

She slapped his thigh with her free hand, not giving a shit what he felt about people touching him, and to her honest surprise, he just laughed, not even yelling at her for it. “Get pissy if you want. I can’t help it that I have better restraint than you.”

She didn’t have a response to that. In their little battle of wills, she had lost. And he was going to rub it in her face. “Oh, fuck off,” she said as Stranger rode off to follow Arya, the morning road covered in a light fog.

“Real clever,” he said. 

“ _You’re_ the one that uses it all the time,” she said. She regripped his armor after getting used to the swaying of Stranger.

“It’s because I don’t like conversation.”

“That’s what we are doing right now.”

“You’re more like free entertainment,” he said.

She sighed. _This motherfucker, I swear_. "You just need a whore. You're probably backed up. Men always behave better when they've fucked something recently."

"Don't want a whore,” he said darkly. 

She smiled to herself, grateful that Arya was riding ahead not to hear this. As much as Lana wanted to satisfy their tension and fuck with him some more, she realized it was an opportune moment to shoehorn in her intentions. "Well, you're going to have to get one. I need to leave soon. I might now know much about these lands, but I _do_ know that once I hit the road to the Eyrie, I need to go north, and then take a right, and then White Harbor will be there."

"Planning to go without me? You’re as hot and cold as the Stark girl."

"I am not going to go into the Eyrie. I hear her aunt is a bit, well, of a lunatic. I don't trust her with me."

"Then just wait for me to come back."

"It would take you a few weeks at the bare minimum. I can’t stay there, that long, with no food or water. I _also_ need to get back to Meereen."

"Then what am I supposed to do after I am done with the Stark girl?" he asked.

"Come find me in Meereen. I won't be hard to find. I will be with my sister,” she gently said, leaning into him.

"Maybe I'll just sell my sword instead,” he grumbled, and she enjoyed the way his voice vibrated in his chest.

"I'd really like if you still came to serve me."

"I don't even know what you pay, or if you'll give me new armor, or weapons. We have hardly discussed the business of it."

"Well now, who is the spoiled one?"

He tutted. "That's called whetting your blade. You want me to guard you, which means I better be wearing and wielding the finest steel.”

She smiled. "You’ll get the best, obviously. And I already said, I'll match the Lannister salary.”

Clegane didn't response to her and fell silent. The surrounding areas were getting taller with mountains and hills, the sun having to rise over the peaks before touching the road. Lana realized she would actually miss something about all of this. Even though Westeros was hundreds of miles apart, it didn't take more than a month to travel from the Riverlands to the Eyrie. Maybe a month and a half if traveling slow.

Lana struggled greatly with letting go of her desire for Clegane. She knew that Dany would want Lana unbesmirched for marriage, but what lord would catch her fascination in the same way that Clegane had? Lana was a woman of the streets and raised among assassins. She valued a real soldier, not the lords that dressed in pompous outfits and had no dents in their armor. 

After a time, with Arya still ahead, Clegane finally spoke again. "You either need to rinse your hair in the river or switch horses with Arya."

"It's clean!” she exclaimed, but she quickly realized what he really meant. “Oh. Is it bothering you?" she asked with a smile.

"It's just torture now." 

"What happened to that restraint you just yammered on about?"

"Can only use it for so long before it fades." He leaned in. "And it's fading right now. Your little stunt in the cellar didn’t fucking help."

She didn't say anything and instead darted her eyes around the green scenery with little focus. Him mentioning their kiss brought a new magnitude to it. She had been so high on her hormones that it felt like a blur, like maybe it didn’t even happen.

She took in a deep breath, trying to think of things to distract herself with. "Don't worry. I will be gone soon," she said softly and with little enthusiasm.

Once again, it turned him silent, until he finally broke it by saying, "So, if I did show up, they'll just let me right on in?"

"I, well, I am not - Oh! I can give you a handkerchief. It's in my bag. It's for decoration, not use. It is made with special silk and has the Targaryen sigil on it. A token from Dany. At the very least, you can give that to a guard. I'll also tell them I am waiting for you."

"All of that trouble just to have me?"

"It's not like you're not known. You're a great warrior. Dany has her two Westerosi knights. I want one."

"I am not a knight."

"I prefer you over any of them."

He was silent. "When did you want to leave?"

"As soon as we hit the fork. I have no idea where we are, but I've been looking out for a fork."

He chuckled. "You are shit with directions, you know that? How am I supposed to sleep knowing you're probably wandering off to the Iron Islands?"

"Well, if you get to Meeren and I am not there, you can always check the Iron Islands first," she said with a laugh.

He snickered and let silence sit between them once more, although she savored how close she was to him. His armor, where she lied against it, was growing warm from the exchange of their body heat. Then Clegane said, "We'll give you Arya's horse."

She frowned. "But she's so happy with it."

"What, planned to just walk the whole fucking way? You need to have a horse. Once at the Eyrie, I am done with her, and she won't need it anymore. White Harbor is still a ways away.”

Lana sighed and knew he was mostly right. "You're a good man for seeing her to her family," she said. She felt a retort rising in his chest and cut him off. "And before you say there is gold in it, don't. You’ve good a good streak, even if it is rare. Don't think I don't notice."

"Don't get sappy on me."

"I am being thankful."

"Not used to that shit either."

"Which is odd, since you guarded the king and all."

"None of them knew gratitude."

Arya came riding back after nearing a hill, her face rife with concern. "Lannister men. Four of them. In nice armor. They look a lot more serious than anything we have seen."

"Best to avoid it if we can. Let's wander off,” Clegane suggested, and Lana didn’t object.

They rode through the woods on one of the many trails around. The area in the Riverlands and Eyrie were full of side trails, some more traveled than others. Thanks the gods Clegane had a strong sense of direction.

Once the sun started to dull in its vibrancy, they got off to rest for the night. Clegane was indeed right that his restraint was better than hers. Despite their tension, he didn’t indulge. Although, whenever their eyes connected, it looked like he was only being held back by a thread. 

After a time, they heard horses trotting and men laughing, prompting both Arya and Lana to stand. Clegane remained seated, although he was carefully watching on.

“Those are the men,” Arya said. 

Four men wearing nice armor with red leathers approached on horseback in the distance.

"Sandor," Lana said quietly, not sure why she just called him by his first name. She awkwardly glanced to him, nearly ready to apologize for that. It got his attention right quick, his eyes losing any menace. He was quick to his feet, and whatever weakness his first name evoked was gone as he focused on the approaching men.

"Arya, don't go in for anything, unless it's to stab a fucker in the back of the neck and he's about to kill me. Lana, only help when you see an opening. Don’t want to mind the both of you while cutting them down.”

Lana agreed, and so did Arya. The men approached and got off their horses, which was never a good sign. Lana nearly chuckled to herself at the memory of how she did the same thing when she first met Clegane and Arya. 

She really _did_ look fishy that day.

The calm and collected nature of the Lannister men made Lana cautious. She knew that arrogant look and conceited swagger. These were men that would definitely rape her before killing her.

Clegane looked down at her, his hand on his pommel, and his eyes scrutinizing. " _This_ is why you shouldn't travel alone."

“It’s also why _she_ shouldn’t travel alone, either,” Lana countered, nodding back to Arya, who was keener on the men than their conversation. Arya had Needle out, her knees bent and ready to strike. Clegane didn’t say anything and turned back to face the men again.

"Seven blessings,” the one in front said. None of them were relatively attractive, all with odd features, but the one in front was the least ugly. The motley trio remained silent while facing these four.

"Sandor Clegane? Is that you?" the one in front asked. 

"Either keep moving or say what you came to say,” Clegane warned without skipping a beat. 

"You got a pretty thing there," a man at the end of their group said, his features round and his body stout. 

Clegane pulled out a small fraction of his sword to reveal its steal, and the other men did the same. Then Clegane warned, "Aye, and if you touch her, I'll make you my next pretty little thing."

"There's four of us, and one of you. I think we'll be touching her later,” the one in front said, his eyes gently narrowing. 

"You touch me, and I'll bite your dick off,” Lana said, her turn not to skip a beat. 

"We'll just knock your teeth out first,” the leader quipped. 

She shrugged a shoulder and raised her brows. "Fair.”

They all looked at her funny. Clegane took a step forward, his heavy armor clinking. Lana hoped that it would deter them. Lana wasn’t worried about if they would win, but she didn’t want her or Clegane to sustain any more injury. 

"Get the fuck on,” Clegane said.

"Don't know if we should."

Clegane said, "You know, I can kill at least two of you without even trying. The rest might give me a small challenge, as I’m starting to get hungry. Bet you got food on your horses. Maybe I'll just have butcher one of them after robbing your corpse."

The Lannister men drew their swords, and Clegane's was out almost just as quickly, although it was near double the size of theirs. Lana pulled hers out. 

"What about _your_ sword?" the stout one asked Lana, shouting a little louder as a strong gust of wind rustled the leaves around.

"You have to come closer to see it," she said with a gentle smile.

Clegane snickered.

"You _sure_ you know how to use that?" the leader of the Lannister group asked, eyeing her with amusement. 

"Killed three Lannister men about a month ago. That was by myself," she said, not mentioning she nearly died, or that they were just messengers. "Now I got the Hound right here. Shouldn't be a problem."

Their confidence clearly fell. She knew that they weren't really threatened by _her_ , but rather by the unknown of it all. 

In their doubt, Clegane lunged at the far left one, and Lana went for the far right one. Her adrenaline was so high that she could barely hear a thing, save for the scuffling of feet and steel clashing. She ducked and dodged, observing her opponent as he swung at her. When his eyes faltered, keen on one of his men that Clegane killed, Lana attacked and slid her blade up his sword to push it away from her. With her free hand, she jabbed one of her thumbs in his eyes. He screamed out, and she stabbed him in the neck. 

She pulled out her bloodied blade and immediately eyed the next one, who seemed very concerned about her skill. Again, she was not the best, and she knew it, but so many men faltered when confronting a woman that could moderately wield a blade. Unless they were Ironborn. She always struggled with those. 

Clegane had already cut through the first two and sliced the last one’s head right off. Clegane bent over and wiped his sword against their clothes, even while their bodies still twitched from their fading life. “Lannister footsoldiers. Think they’re hot shit, but are mostly only good for razing, raping, and killing farmers.”

They rummaged through the bodies and found quite a chunk of change, food, and fresh weapons. Lana took one of their horses and the rest they set free. It would take too much time to butcher and cook any of the others. 

She had to admit that Clegane’s ease in handling those men was a drastic difference compared to what she could do. For a moment, it made her reconsider her decision to go on her own.

It gave her a lot to think about as they settled into the night.

When Lana and Clegane were sitting around a fire, with Arya off in the distance training with Needle, Clegane said, "Tomorrow we should hit that fork you mentioned. One way takes you to the Eyrie, and the other takes you north. If you still want to go on your own, you better tell the girl. She doesn't like change."

Lana wouldn’t comment on it, but she appreciated how much he quietly cared about the girl. "We could always skip her aunt and just go to Meereen. The three of us, I mean,” Lana said. She thought long and hard about that decision. Dany would always be grateful for a Stark, Arya would get to avoid her aunt, and Lana would get her warrior.

"Gotta admit, I want Arya out of my hair just as bad as I want to fuck you, but I don't want to leave the wolf girl somewhere dangerous. The only people a lady like her can trust is family, and pretty much all of them are dead. I trust you, but I don’t trust your sister. I don’t even know her. Arya’s aunt will take care of her, and if the little shit decides to run off to Bravos, at least it won't be on my watch."

Lana took in a long breath, looking back at the fire, breathing in the smoke of it. Lana knew that Dany was a good person, but in truth, Lana couldn’t assure anything for Arya. When would they really sail for Westeros? It could be years, and that was a long time to trust that Dany would succeed when the Masters were so angry, and her dragons so small. As much as Lana believed in her sister, Clegane was right. Arya was safe with an established family in lands that knew her name. 

And yet, Lana still didn’t want to leave him and go on her own. She looked over to him and said, "You know these people better than me, Clegane. Should I trust her aunt Lysa? Or go on my own? I obviously can’t wait around, as I’d be a sitting duck."

He repositioned his legs and stared at the fire for some time. Eventually, he said, "I wouldn't trust her. She lived in King's Landing before her husband died, and that bitch has a real crazy streak. Word of the Lannister bounty would have reached her ear by now. I'd say I'd protect you, but I can't take on a whole fucking castle. It's not worth the risk. If I were in your shoes, I would go on your own."

"And Arya will be safe?"

"She will be fed, clothed, and with a nice roof over her head. She'll hate it, but her aunt hates the Lannisters. Aye, she'll be safe."

"Will _you_ be safe?"

He glared at her, the fire gently illuminating his face. "What kind of question is that?"

"If she is crazy, how will she feel about the _Hound_ walking right through her doors?"

"Guess we'll find out."

"Well, I don't like that answer."

"It's the only one I got,” he said, holding his hands to show he had nothing to offer.

She slunk back into her tree trunk and picked at her nails. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want this to end. They struggled a lot out here, but she enjoyed being away from everything. 

She enjoyed that she didn't have any job, mission, or real responsibility out here

Despite that, Lana knew that time had finally caught up to them, and now they needed to go their own ways.

Arya eventually came back over, and they shared bread and cheese from the Inn. Lana finally said to Arya, "I am leaving when he hit the fork.”

Arya stopped eating, and Lana’s eyes were on her, waiting for the upheaval. "What, why?"

"I have to go to Meereen."

"But what about seeing me to my aunt?" Arya asked, brows furrowed, and her hair in her eyes.

"I can't trust your aunt or any of her men. Without one of my sister's dragon, or an army, I can't be running around telling people who I am. I got lucky before, but I know not to push it. And with a bounty on my head, I don't know how she will feel about that,” Lana said, lightly wincing as she dug too deep with her dagger under her nails, although she did her best to pretend it didn’t happen.

"I will tell her that if she hurts you, I will run away," Arya pressed. 

Lana smiled, pinching her finger that was gently bleeding now. "You know I can't go with you, Arya."

"Where are you going, then?"

"White Harbor, then to Bravos, then to Qohor, then Meereen."

"How are you getting there? White Harbor is far."

"On my new fresh horse,” Lana said, nodding to the brown horse she stole from the dead Lannisters.

"You are shit with directions,” Arya said, her tone terse, an evident distress in her voice. Lana thought back to Sedona and how she told her that she had a role to play. Lana knew she needed to get back to Essos more than she needed to comfort Arya.

“I’ll figure it out,” Lana said.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye,” Arya quickly retorted. 

"We may still see each other yet. And know that if everything falls apart here, you can always find me in Meereen.”

"If I go anywhere, it will be to Bravos first," Arya said with a grumpy defiance.

"Then we were bound to part ways eventually."

Arya looked down to needle, swiping it again and just stared at the dirt. Then she looked up at Clegane and asked, “Why aren't _you_ abandoning me and following _her_?" 

Clegane curtly sighed, his jaw gently jutted out. "Because I need to get paid for all the shit you put me through."

"Of course. That's all you care about."

In the rare moment of concern, Clegane softened his tone. "Lana has a better chance to survive than you, and she actually has a place to go, with family waiting for her. The only family you got is in the Eyrie, so that’s where you go.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“It’s just the fucking truth. And I can’t change that. Can only make decisions based on it. No point in hating me for that.”

The rest of the night was quiet with crickets chirping and owls hooting as the only sound around. Arya went to bed early. Lana was playing with the tips of her hair, looking at the pale blonde and thought of Dany. Her sister’s silver hair was striking, along with her purple eyes. Lana couldn’t wait to see how the lords and ladies would react to seeing Daenerys.

She looked up when she felt Clegane's eyes on her. He was leaning his elbows on his knees, breaking a twig in his hands, watching her with a furrowed brow. Despite that, his eyes weren't mean. When she didn't let up on her gaze, he looked away.

"What?" she asked quietly.

"Don't gotta say shit," he said, throwing the stick down. "Need to piss."

She sighed. She hated when he was this crabby. It was hard to tell if it was because of her, or something else. Then again, maybe he was just mad that she was leaving him to deal with Arya on his own. But Lana saw no other way around it. Clegane said it himself that Lysa was not to be trusted.

Lana got up to go to her new horse, rummaging through her bag. Inside a leather holder, she found the handkerchief. She found it a bit funny that out of everything that had happened, it managed to survive. Then again, when things like that occurred, she found it best not to question. 

The Lord of Light always shone light in the oddest of places.

Lana trusted Clegane. She wasn't even paying him yet, and even though there was a definite tension, she hadn't so much as touched his dick. And yet he was protecting her.

Yes, she'd leave him with the handkerchief. Men liked that sort of thing, right? She wanted him to think of her, tempting him to come for her when he was free to choose what he wanted. She knew all of this flirting and tension might be for nothing in the end, as she’d have to marry one day. But she worried that hardly any lord would compare to Clegane. 

He once said she was refreshing, like a whore on the first day of the job. He was refreshing too, with his brutal honesty and proving his worth as a warrior.

She sat back down. When he walked by her, she held it out, the fire shining on the gloss of the silk. He stopped with his side still facing her, his hand and face the only thing not covered in armor. "The fuck is that?"

"The handkerchief. Take it. You don't have to find me, but if you _do_ want the job, I'll tell the soldiers to be on the lookout for a man with this. It should guarantee your way in."

He looked at it, then at her. He squatted down, took it from her, and examined it with his dirty hands before moving his eyes to her. 

"If I do go to Essos, and fight for you, I don’t promise that I will remain there. I still need to kill my brother. Once you’re safe and Gregor is dead, I might want to go my own way.”

“You won’t stay with me?”

“I’ve decided that after telling Joffrey to fuck off that I don’t want to grow old shielding another. Also, I got no interest in watching another lord fuck you every night. But I’ll help you and protect you before then," he said with a nod.

She leaned forward, closing in the space with a sly smile. "Would that _really_ bother you?”

He darkly snickered. “You know, once, I would have done it. I would have fucking put up with it. But I am done doing that shit. I live for me now, and for what _I_ want in this world. And I know that I won’t die happy unless Gregor is dead, and I'll probably end up gutting the bastard that gets to share your bed, especially once I have to watch you walk around in a pretty dress, smelling like a lady. In the meantime, however, I wouldn’t mind watching over you to get some gold. Could use that new armor and weapons you mentioned to fight him.”

"And what of what I want? What if I want _you_?” she asked, imploring her real intent of that question with her eyes, not able to finish the sentence out loud. What if Lana and Clegane continued to bond, and she preferred _him_ over a lord?

Nothing about his expression changed, although the way his eyes vibrated told her that he was truly considering her words. “That doesn’t work in Westeros.”

“That’s unfortunate,” she said with a grave expression. 

He took in a deep breath; his eyes betraying him until he steeled himself again. "What's your real goal? In all of this? You're more like Arya than Sansa, and yet you want a castle. Doesn't align."

"I want to get away from being an assassin. They don't live to old age often. And I got a potential castle waiting for me, so why the fuck not? I honestly have no idea what I am doing. I am just winging it and hope I land on some peace and quiet at some point."

He mulled that over, their gazes not breaking from the other. It made her realize he had some significant decisions to make. Did he keep this freedom, or keep going in the line of work that he knew? She knew, and figured that he did too, that there was no way that if he worked for her, that they wouldn't fuck at some point. What would a future lord husband think of that? 

Wouldn't that just make things more complicated for them?

He blinked and stood back up, walking back over to his area and tucked the fabric away. 

The night had passed with no more conversation. In the morning, Lana rode off on her new horse and already missed sitting with Clegane. When they reached the fork, Lana and Arya both dismounted to give each other a hug, to which the wolf girl nestled a bit into Lana’s shoulder. "I am so sorry, Arya, for the shit you’ve been through. Your life has truly been hard. I admire you for even being able to make it this far," Lana said, pulling back. "You are resilient, like a true wolf. I hope you get to get revenge, but don’t forget to live for yourself at some point.”

“I can’t live for myself until a Stark sits at Winterfell,” Arya said grimly. "And there are no more Starks to sit there."

“There might be one day. When Dany comes, things will be different. You or Sansa could take it.”

“I look forward to that, if that’s true. Until then, I have some names on my list,” Arya said, a new hardness about her. Lana nodded and smiled to her before moving back to her horse.

Clegane was still on Stranger, and Lana didn’t expect him to see her off properly. She mounted her horse with her good ankle, settling into her saddle as Clegane rode over. "Don't sleep at night. Not at an Inn, unless it's in White Harbor,” he cautioned, his tone entirely without his usual bite.

He was close to her, gently towering over her. She didn't know what to do or say, and realized she was actually going to miss him.

“Is it weird that I might miss you?”

“It’s definitely not fucking normal," he said, the bite in his tone coming back, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I really do hope I see you again, Clegane. You keep things a lot less dull than most," she said gently before looking ahead, but not before she caught that his eyes had softened. 

She kicked her horse, riding off. She didn’t like long goodbyes.

As soon as they were behind her, something felt wrong. She didn't want to leave them, but she couldn't trust any lords or ladies now.

The sun fell behind the horizon, and she slowed to a stop. She thought of Clegane telling her not to sleep at night. She looked around at the dark forests and mountains, her horse breathing between her legs as a reminder that no one else was out here except for her steed. Lana felt her loneliness then. 

She kicked the horse again and decided to ride through. She might not trust many people in these lands, but she _did_ trust Clegane, and if he cautioned sleeping at night, then she wouldn't do it.

A fear trilled in her heart at knowing that there was no way to ensure she'd see either one of them again. 

She wondered if she should turn around. Surely, she’d be able to find them before the sun came up? But she thought to Dany in Meereen. To Sedona, and the Lord of Light. Lana recomposed herself. Yes, she was doing this for something larger than herself. 

She desperately hoped she'd see Arya and Clegane again.

°°°

Sandor sat by the fire that night cleaning his blade, clouds rolling through the sky to block out the moon and stars. He glanced over to Arya, then to the space that was empty where the dragon would have been.

He already regretted not pushing for her to stay. 

He had a woman that wanted him to fuck her like mad, and yet he just let her go without at least one good fuck. But what was he supposed to have done? Getting enjoyment out of her just didn’t feel right on these dirty roads, with their filthy bodies. And yet, since when did he care about a woman’s comfort when it came to fucking, virgin or not? 

After she told him that she was leaving, it surprised him how much harder it was to focus on what she looked like naked. What if she got unlucky, or sick, or injured? What if he got to Meereen and she wasn't there? Should he really go for her? The next he'd see her, she'd be a lady. She had already shown that she had a way of sneaking into his mind. Did he really need more of that?

"She might get raped on the road," Arya said, as if sensing his worries.

"So would you," Clegane pointed out with a less severe tone. That was the truth of it, and Lana knew it. They separated to protect Arya. 

"All you want is money," Arya said. 

"Yes, all of this is just for some stupid fucking gold," he said mockingly.

"You won't say no to it, though."

He laughed. "I'd never say no to gold."

"You don't care about me," Arya said miserably.

"You're right. Why don't I just leave you here and follow Lana? At least I'd get a good fucking out of her, 'specially if you're not around."

"Ugh, I don't want to picture that. She wouldn't want you, anyway."

He laughed harder. "You got a lot to learn."

"What does she see in a shit like you?"

"Don't fucking know. I am not a poet. It's just hormones, girl."

"She left me," Arya said. He rolled his eyes. How the fuck did he get stuck with her? If it weren't for the mountain men roaming these areas, he might have just sent her off to ride to the Eyrie on her own. It's not like she'd get lost.

"She was always going to Meereen. And your aunt can't be trusted with someone like her. Lana is a bastard to the real throne, and many of your kind would love to use that to their advantage. And not in a good way," Clegane said.

"I don't want to go to my aunt."

"It's the only place that's safe for you."

"I can stay with you. Go with you to Meereen, with Lana."

He thought about it for a long moment. "No. Just like Lana didn't want to meet your aunt, I haven't met this mother of dragons. If she is as crazy as her daddy, then I'm right back to the start with you."

“She can’t be bad, or Lana wouldn’t trust her.”

“If only it were that simple. Your father trusted the Baratheon king, who trusted the Lannisters. Look where that got them both.”

"I hate politics."

He chuckled. "If we had ale, I'd drink to that."

The next day was a long one, and Clegane missed Lana more than he cared to admit. He didn't mind her. Her company wasn't bad, and she handled him well. He even thought she was funny at times. 

It dawned on him that if he had let Arya go alone to the Eyrie, he and the dragon would be riding alone on their way to White Harbor. Now _that_ would have been enjoyable — no one around, except for the rare person that he tolerated. If the Stark girl weren’t there, they’d be free to engage in whatever fucking intimacy they wanted. He supposed he could only get so lucky.

But he wouldn't abandon the wolf girl. If learning of Sansa’s fate was any indicator, then he knew that abandoning Arya would truly haunt him.

They eventually reached an Inn that was just outside the Eyrie, and it was a popular place. They tied their horses up among at least twenty others and walked to the stone building that had a golden glow of candlelight coming from it. 

It reminded him that Lana was out there, somewhere, in the dark.

He hated himself for letting his gentler side enjoy her. He wanted every inch of her, to fuck her so hard that she couldn't even walk the next day. He also wanted her to ride on his horse again and have her lay her head on his chest. He hated that he gave in to that. He knew he didn't need to grow any more fond of her. 

And now she was alone, at night. 

The temptation to get on Stranger and ride for her was so strong that it worried him. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize how big the Inn actually was. _Must be where the men of the Vale go to fuck whores._ They paid a man some coin for two beds. "There's ale, food, and women for pleasure, ser, if you choose," the man said. 

Clegane thought on that, and then said, "Good." 

"You're not getting a whore are you?" Arya asked after overhearing that.

"You'll understand one day. You got needle and your dagger?" he asked. 

She nodded, her dirty face scolding him with a look.

"Yell if you need me. Stay near the fire, where most of the people are," he said and walked forward to the extremely flirtatious women in the corner. 

There was a blonde there, although she wasn't nearly as pretty as Lana, but she would do. He threw a coin at her. "Let's go," he ordered. 

"Well, I like a man of few words. You fond of blondes?"

"I am," he said, and she guided him to a room down the hall. 

She tried to undress him, but he bat her away. "I am just here to fuck you and be done with it," he said. 

She smiled like a whore was supposed to do. “I like a man who takes control," she said. They all said things they thought men wanted to hear.

He grabbed her by her shoulders, turned her around, and pushed her onto the bed. “I'm not paying you to like it."

He lifted her skirts, the bare ass and folds of a woman enough to get his blood south. He licked his hand, wiped between her thighs, and got distracted as he immediately imagined Lana. He growled at the thought, angry that he never got to feel that part of her. He grabbed the whore’s hips with one hand, steadied her, and quickly found himself inside a warm, wet cunt.

It felt so good for him that for a minute he slowed down to enjoy it, not even caring that it was a whore. She tried to look over to give him whatever dumb-shit-look that whores gave, but he didn’t want it. "Look ahead. I don't want your face," he said to her, and she did as she was told. He wasn't, in the slightest, interested in the intimacy of a whore. He just needed to angrily fuck something, as he only wanted one woman to put her hands on him.

The thought of being inside Lana hardened him even more, and he placed both hands on the whore's hips. They weren't Lana's, but they worked. He held her good, smacking her ass against him as he pounded her, thinking of Lana on top of him the other day, with that small, sweet look of hunger, her hair smelling like lavender…

And then when she kissed him and leaned into him as he pulled on her…

 _Fuck_ , he wanted her. He wanted to fuck her wild, with no restraint. The whore’s ass rippled as he pounded harder, and all he had to do was imagine the bastard dragon moaning before he felt himself rising. He pulled out, releasing himself on the small of the whore's back.

"Now get out," he calmly said to her. 

"Whatever you say," she said, standing up, and wiping her back. He wished it was Lana's ass that his seed was running down.

A stillness was about him that only came after he released his backed up balls, and gods he felt better. Lana was right about that. His balls _were_ backed up. Something in that made him miss her as well. 

The whore left with her coins, and he began to adjust his armor. With a clear head, he went out and immediately looked for Arya among the crowd of laughing and lonely men. There were women carrying around food and drink, the smell from their plates making him hungry.

When he saw Arya drinking ale all alone, he breathed with relief. She was fine. Although it was sad to see such a thing drinking all by herself. 

He bought his own round and sat across from the wolf girl. 

"You look miserable. We're nearly to your aunt," he said, sitting down on the wooden bench that groaned with his weight. He took a long drink.

"I don't want my aunt," Arya repeated quietly.

He sighed and said with a somber tone, the ale bubbling in the hair above his lip. "I know." 

"How do you deal with the misery?" she asked, looking up at him. "You're always angry. I think I get why now. How do you deal with it?"

He studied her face. "Vengeance."

"Then what?"

"Don't know. Never got it. I imagine I'll die doing it,” he said, looking into his mug as he thought of Gregor. Sandor could never truly rest until that fucker was dead.

"So it never gets better?" 

"Not for someone like me. Maybe for someone like you." 

"I wish Lana didn't leave," Arya said, her dirty hair in her eyes as she took another drink.

"You and me both." 

"Why did she leave me? I just, I know it was risky. But she left me. Everyone always leaves me." 

"She didn't leave you, wolf girl," he said, growing annoyed. Sometimes this child had a head hard as a coconut. "She is like you. Can't be caught."

"So if my aunt can't be trusted, then why are you taking me there?"

He didn't answer right away. The truth was he had no idea how to deal with her. Leaving her at the Vale meant safety, and in this world, that was a rare thing. "Because you're her family. Lana isn't. I trust your aunt to keep her family alive."

"What if I don't like it there?" 

"What is this, ask a hundred fucking questions?" he asked, drinking more of his shitty drink.

"Sorry, forgot you don't got a heart,” she said, swiping at the brown hair in her eyes.

"If you don't like it then take your stupid coin to Bravos."

"By myself?"

"You _really_ want to travel with me?" he asked, adjusting his legs as this table was too short for him to get comfortable.

"You're right. Might have to kill you eventually." 

He laughed. "That’d be my fucking luck. Killed by a little shit like you.” She smiled and looked down at her drink. "I'll just go to Bravos alone if I need to. I would have to, anyway." 

He didn't answer, as he really didn't know what to do with her. He first took her because he needed the money. But now he just didn't feel right leaving her alone. He didn't know how to handle someone else and their own goals, either. Was he supposed to help her do what she wanted? Or was it best to send her off to family that would ensure he could walk away guilt-free? He immediately thought of Sansa and decided that he had already tried doing what someone else wanted. And look where that got her. Arya would just have to get over it. 

Eventually they both grew tired and they retired for the night. They slept in the barn with more hay beds, which wasn't much, but was better than the dirt. While lying on his bed of hay, he pulled out the handkerchief he had tucked away in his armor, touching the silk. He'd need to put this away so it didn't get ruined. 

He bet she'd be wearing nice silk dresses when he saw her next.

He'd like to see that. °°°

The smell of salty air was refreshing for Lana. No one batted an eye at her when she boarded the ship at White Harbor. She stood at the edge of the ship, looking out into the vast ocean as waves splashed against the wood, looking up to the cloudy, gray sky. Somehow, she had made it. It was a lonely few weeks, but she was alive.  
She hoped Sandor and Arya had made it. 

Not a day went by that she didn't think of them. 

She really hoped Clegane would make it to her in Meereen. Aside from her unusual interest in him, Clegane felt like the right choice. He knew enough about Westeros to smell their bullshit, and his skill as a warrior nearly unrivaled. Plus, she wanted a Westerosi knight, even if he wasn't a knight. It didn't feel right taking a guard that was an unsullied or Dothraki into lands that would see them as foreigners.

It took another four weeks to travel to Qohor. She made peace with her brotherhood, collected the small bit of coin, and found herself back to shore, sailing to Meereen. It was nearly another three weeks before she saw the pyramids.

Gods, what a transition. From the vast, green world of Westeros to this sea of brown. Humans were so alike, and yet so different. 

Lana found her way to land, neared the pyramids, and told the unsullied that she was here to see the queen. Of course, they made her get in line with the rest of the peasants that wanted to see Daenerys. She tried many times to say that Dany was waiting for her and who she was, but when no one listened to her, for a small moment, she worried that the queen had changed her mind. 

When she entered the throne room and saw an even paler haired female sitting the throne, Lana knew she had made the right decision to come back. 

"Lana," Daenarys said with shock and rose.

"Sorry for the delay, your grace," Lana said, bowing her head. 

"I was so worried," she said with a fold of her eyebrows.

"So was I, but I made it," Lana said, still conflicted about leaving Clegane and Arya, but seeing her sister, Selmy, and Jorah made it worth it.

There was still a purpose here. 

"Come closer," Daenerys said, and Lana complied. Dany rose from her seat and walked down the many stairs to hug her sister. "I am sorry, your grace, for my smell-" Lana said. Dany was so clean and smelled like oils. 

"Nonsense. I have rode with the Dohtraki in the Red Waste. I am just happy that you are alive," she said, pulling back and looking her in the eye. Dany's purple eyes were striking after having not seen them in months, and they were so full of joy. It nearly brought tears to Lana's eyes to have an actual member of her family grateful for her safety. 

Lana hugged her sister again, and Daenerys was small in Lana's arms, compared to clinging to Clegane for the last few weeks that she was in Westeros. And in that, Lana’s heart nearly sank to her stomach as she realized that Arya would never quite have that again. "You must tell me all about your journey," Dany said with a smile as they parted.

"We have more people to answer to, Khaleesi," Jorah reminded her.

"Then later," Dany said politely. 

"I would love that, and to hear all about Meereen."

Dany called out one of her Dothraki haindmaids. "See to it that my sister gets a good bath, some new clothes, and whatever else she needs," Dany said. 

"Yes, Khaleesi."

Ser Barriston and Ser Jorah watched on as Lana was led out of the throne room. She was led down magnificent halls and felt warm in her clothes that were not suitable for the climate of Meereen.

Like Dany commanded, Lana was bathed, clothed, and fed. By the time that night fell, Lana was a different person than the one traveling in Westeros, at least visually. She wore a nightly gown made of a thin, pale blue material, her wet hair still at her shoulders. 

As Lana sat in her new room, looking over her clean body, and with no dirt under her nails, she wished that Clegane was here. She wanted him to see her when she was clean like a lady. She'd love to tease him with it. She wanted to see his restraint leave him as well, like when they were in the cellar and he was eyeing her. She took a drink of her chalice, swooshing the wine around in her mouth, smiling. 

They were an ocean apart, and yet Lana was still thinking of him.

**END OF ARC 1**

**A/N: Don't worry. This isn't a story that separates at this chapter and then forty chapters later they get together. Next chapter they round back together ;D This arc was mostly them meeting and establishing a connection/tension. Next arc we get to see a lot more of the cast, enter into the war with the dead, have a few scenes at Winterfell, fight for the throne, etc, and much more Sandor/Lana, with more of his protective moments coming out (that I know we are all waiting for!) I really wanted the two of them to have a solid base before building more of that tension/romance, and time apart (there will be a big time skip with next chapter) proved to be really fun for them rekindling things and letting them grow, only to realize they really missed the other. I also wanted Clegane to still meet Brienne and take his tumble, as I think it was instrumental in his character development.**

**Also, there are probably going to be around 40 chapters for this, since I am combining a lot of them**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAhhh thank you for all the support last chapter! I got so many lovely comments from you guys! For that, I decided to make this chapter nearly 8k words, and next chapter will be the same. I super appreciate the support and seriously can't thank you enough for it. It makes writing fanfiction completely worth it!!!


	17. Possible Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: One guest asked how I will continue this and if I liked season 8…I can’t give away too much! But I thought I would mention – season 8 was rushed. I think that’s a pretty unanimous consensus. Sure, we followed quite a bit, but GoT has always been about the buildup, characters, and dialogue. That being said, my story doesn’t waver too far from the beaten path. I like to think I tried to smooth out the kinks that occurred when the writers tried to rush it. I will, however, rearrange a few scenes and reintroduce elements they seemed to just chuck over the wall that Sandor almost chucked Berric over. 
> 
> Some characters will die that lived, and vice versa. In my version, we face Cersei as the queen first, and then the Night King. I do change who kills him as well, and how Cersei dies. Lady Olenna also doesn’t die, and Myrcella dies later. Also, no sending Dothraki into the darkness against an enemy that is known for raising the dead, lol. Dany also doesn’t go mad queen here. I love that storyline of her doing that but would take waaaay more foreshadowing to do it right, and this story isn’t about that. It’s about Sandor, so Dany will be sane by the end of this. In my imagination, where a sequel lives, I can see Dany going down to crazy town, but that doesn’t happen in this part of the series.
> 
> That being said, when the battle for winterfell occurs, I will insert a few other canon characters POV to re-tell a few scenes I wanted changed, since Lana can’t be everywhere at once.
> 
> OKAY, FOR BELOW: This first half feels like a summary of sorts at times, but that’s because I didn’t want to spend ages going over every scene that wasn’t relevant to Lana or Clegane.

Nearly a year and a half had passed, and virtually everything that could have happened, did. 

Daenerys met her own lover, Daario, while pledging to marry another. It was fun to talk about Daario and how even Dany, the queen herself, couldn’t betray what she wanted. 

To Lana's great shock, a Lannister named Tyrion asked to go in Dany's service. 

Varys was astonished, not only to see Lana, but to learn of her heritage - which resulted in a long, and exciting conversation.

The Sons of the Harpee revealed themselves to be vengeful cowards, lurking behind masks. Lana wasn’t terribly surprised. Any usurpation would face blowback, but it still didn't mean that Lana hoped it would end sooner rather than later. Ser Barriston nearly died in a fight with them and was still nursing his wounds, although he was expected to make a full recovery. 

Jorah had been uncovered as a spy against Daenerys, and even though she chose to cast him out, he came back, professing his loyalty to her. But Dany was more unforgiving than Lana, and after threatening his life, Dany sent him away once more.

Things started to unravel when the Sons of the Harpee unleashed a daunting attack, nearly killing them all until Drogon came to save his mother.

Dany was currently somewhere in Essos, flying around on the black dragon. Nearly immediately, after she left, the city fell into absolute chaos. It got so bad that Lana had to help free the other dragons, in hopes that their presence would remind Meereen who their queen was. 

Tyrion filled in the Dany's void, and even though he wasn’t doing a terrible job at ruling, everything was starting to crumble.

The worst part, in Lana’s eyes?

Clegane had never arrived.

Lana sighed, still thinking about him, even after all these months, verging on years. 

She was sitting alone in the room often used to discuss private matters with the queen, leaning into her chair with a chalice of wine in her hand. Daario, Dany’s burning flame, and Jorah, her loyal bear, had gone to find her.

Who knows how long that would take…

Lana couldn’t stop wondering what had happened to Clegane. Shouldn’t he have come for her, as Daario and Jorah went for Daenerys? Had Lana misjudged Sandor so severely? Maybe he didn't see her the way she thought he did. Perhaps he only wanted to fuck her and collect her coin, but had found a better job elsewhere.

"You seem unhappy," Tyrion said as he entered the room.

Lana regarded him as he walked in before she looked out at the clouds. "I was expecting someone to come here, a long while ago. Was just contemplating about it," she said despondently and took a long sip of wine. She was getting better about not spilling it on her beautiful dresses, although at first, she had ruined a few. 

"Who?"

"His name is Clegane," Lana said, and then her cheeks grew so hot. She forgot for a moment that Clegane had guarded Tyrion's nephew once. _Of course, you idiot. Sandor worked for the damned Lannisters._

"Which Clegane?" Tyrion asked, halting, and observing her with great caution. She looked over to the dwarf, always surprised at how well that beard fit him.

"Sandor," she admitted.

"The Hound?" he asked with one of the most incredulous tones she had heard in a long time. "I am going to need wine for this," he said and poured himself a large drink.

"Yes, the Hound. I foolishly forgot that you knew him," she said while Tyrion scooted a chair closer. 

"Of _course_ , I know him. The bastard abandoned me when I needed him most."

Lana tutted, then bit her lip and clenched her jaw with a bitter smile. Clegane _did_ tell her once that he abandoned his king. She couldn't believe she had let herself get worked up over a man like that. "Well, he did the same for me."

"Anyone in Westeros would have warned you not to trust him. He was a loyal beast, but I think Joffrey beat that out of him."

"He was supposed to come here and guard me," she said, finding herself opening up more than she liked, but it had been eating at her. "It's not like I asked him to guard me for anything special. I was going to pay him too, and he needed the gold. I could have paid more than any sellsword company would pay him."

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I think Clegane is done guarding anyone."

"Clearly."

He drank more of his wine and sucked his lips to his teeth before curiously cocking his head. "How did you two meet, by the way?"

"On the road, when I was coming here and still had the bounty on my head."

“Ah, yes. The sister to the queen, who is also an assassin. That could prove quite useful if we ever amount any vexatious enemies in Westeros. Could even use it for Cersei.” 

Lana took in a deep breath and sighed as she eyed Tyrion. "Why are you here? Helping Dany, anyway? I never asked."

He took another long drink and laughed. "I'm starting to wonder if I should walk around with cards that have answers to all the generic questions everyone ever asks me."

She laughed. "Now there's a clever idea." 

His eyes turned serious. "I am here because all my life, I wanted to be a Lannister. I wanted to serve my family. I wanted...I just wanted to be appreciated for who I am. Thought I might finally get it after saving all the ungrateful shits after the failed siege, but no, they decided to have me executed. It was then that I knew Kings Landing, under Cersei, meant nothing to me. Varys convinced me to try a new queen that might be worth it." 

"How do we know you won't go back to them?" Lana asked, placing her empty cup on the table with a soft clink.

"I already killed one of my own, and that was my father. Jamie is the only one I care about, but he is useless without his right hand. Cersei can be ripped apart by dragons for all I care."

"What of Tommen?"

Tyrion stared at Lana before answering. "He is a boy." 

"He is the king. Sitting on her throne."

"All Tommen needs to see is three dragons, and he will surrender," he said gravely. 

She looked him up and down then poured more wine for herself. Tyrion still had a soft spot for the niece and nephew, it seemed. But, at the same time, like Arya, Tyrion was in a hard position. A lot of the Westerosi appeared to be that way.

Lana wondered if that would help bring them together in the end. Or divide them.

"I hope you prove loyal, Lord Tyrion. It can't be easy doing what you're doing. I know you gave up a lot to be here, but besides Dany being the rightful heir, she is a good person. She has proven that. Westeros has been crumbling since my father. We have to think of the greater good of the kingdom now, as hard as that is," she said.

"That's always easier said than done,” he said with a cryptic smile.

She nodded. "It always is."

...

At night, Lana walked about her room, her bare feet sliding on the cold floor as she contemplated. The air was always cool at the top of the tower when the sun had set. She wasn’t yet dressed for bed but wondered if she should retire early.

She relatively enjoyed her life here with Dany, but Lana always felt as if she were missing something, or as if something wasn't quite right. 

A knock came to the door. “Yes?”

“A woman is here to see you,” the handmaid said after opening the door, peeking through. 

“Send her in, I guess,” Lana said, fiddling with her hands, not sure what to say when someone came to see her at this hour. 

A woman in a crimson dress with the octagon necklace came to Lana's quarters, the unsullied guiding her. 

"What are you doing here?" Lana asked, breathless. She had not seen a female servant of the Lord since Sedona. 

"I have seen you in the flames many times. I have even spoken with Sedona, who told me of your history. You have a role to play, Saelolana Storm, and you are not doing it by sitting here."

"I am here to help my sister; even Sedona said that," Lana said with a furrowed brow, waving the unsullied away. "I am here to help the dragon breathe fire in the west."

The pale, maroon haired priestess strode over, putting her warm hands on Lana's shoulders, her eyes darting back and forth between Lana's. She was a stranger, and yet Lana felt like she had known this woman for a long time. 

All the Lord’s followers seemed to be that way. 

"You must go back to Westeros. There is a brotherhood there, without banners, and they must go north. We cannot tell if their fire priest is receiving word from our Lord. But more than one of us has seen it in the flames. For whatever reason, they are needed. And they need this," she said, placing a bag on the table near them. 

The priestess pulled out a short sword with carved bone for the pommel, some kind of onyx stone running through the bone. The blade was Valerian. 

"This blade needs to find its way into the right hands. I keep looking into the fire, and so do others, but we cannot see who it goes to. We just know it needs to be on our sister continent. A few weeks ago, I saw you giving this to Thoros of Myr. You must find him, and make sure they are going north when you give this to him."

Lana studied the scene with wide eyes, not sure what to make of any of this. For an outsider, this seemed completely random, but Lana had grown up with these people, and this was how they operated. “What is that blade?”

"It is a blade with archaic, dark, rich magic. The average man can not carry it, nor can anyone not touched by our Lord. You lived in Asshai for your childhood, drinking the waters that made your blood like ours. You are also able to carry it. Thoros can carry it, and I believe Berric, due to him having been brought back by our Lord. Perhaps _he_ is meant to have it. I don’t know. But Thoros will know when the time is right. And tell him to be cautious to who he gives it to.”

“Why can no average man wield it?”

“It drains the light from them, permanently. Only if someone has been touched by our Lord can they cast off the darkness within this blade.”

“Why do you possess something that drains the light, when R’hllor is about vanquishing darkness?”

The priestess sighed, and slowly looked around the room, walking over to the hearth that was smoothly rumbling. “The enemy is darker than any shadow. Once in the right hands, that sword will undergo a transformation, absorbing light and casting out the darkness within. Only _that_ light can defeat the darkness that awaits.”

Lana sighed, feeling impatient. There were many stressors currently in her life, and this came out of nowhere. If anything, it was more annoying than curious. " _If_ I went, how do I even find them?" she asked, noticing that the fires seemed to burn brighter when the priestess was nearby.

"Go to the Riverlands," the priestess said, looking up at Lana.

Lana stared at the woman for a few seconds before languidly blinking and looking back at the sword, then chuckling, pulling on her chin. _Can’t believe she wants me to go back there._ "That's large, last time I checked. And I am terrible with directions."

The priestess shrugged her shoulders. "That's all I know."

"Send someone else," Lana said, waving her hand. "I am a lady now, I don’t know the Riverlands, and the Brotherhood is as easy to catch as smoke. There are plenty of priestesses from Asshai that can carry this. Including yourself."

"It _must_ be you," she said with a fervor that reminded her of Sedona. "I have seen it as you. I don't know why, but it _has_ to be you."

"I am sorry, but I can't go back. My sister is gone, and I don't know when she returns. I _can't_ abandon her,” Lana implored.

The woman nodded, recomposing herself as she calmly stated, "She will be back soon."

"You've seen _that_ , too, have you?" Lana asked, irritated by how they always seemed to know the truth. Most of the time, it didn’t bother Lana, but it _did_ when it went against what she wanted. Lana craved the security of an unchanging group, doing her best to maintain _that_ order, not wandering off again.

It didn't help the persuasion that the Riverlands would only make her think of Clegane. She didn’t want to use the word heartbroken, but him not appearing for her, when Dany had such loyal, devoted men at her beck and call, truly rubbed Lana the wrong way. _He had seemed so loyal._

The priestess gestured to the flames. "You know our Lord well, Saelolana. I know you believe in him. Look into the flames yourself if you question-"

"I _don't_ like looking into them," Lana said, cutting her off. Lana had done so a few times, and each time, it made her mind, body, and soul feel violated. Something unnatural was in those flames, and she could have _sworn_ she felt the god that controlled those visions. 

To be fair, Lana last looked into the flames when she was a child, her mind still malleable. Even then, Lana remembered the way the flames moved into scenes, and the way it sucked her in, and the way it felt like _something_ was there with her. 

It had unnerved her, cementing her respect for the religion.

"You have a role to play as many others do. We are all being arranged, trained, and prepared for this great war, Saelolna. If you don't go now, whoever is meant to have this blade may not ever get it, and the terrors of night will reign."

Lana stared at the priestess for a long while, the fire reflecting against the gemstone around her neck. Lana knew if the woman was here, with this blade, then she probably _did_ see something in the flames. But Lana couldn’t leave. Not when Dany relied on her. "There are so many other people you can send, as I said.”

"I am sure there is a reason why it is _you_ , but right now, it will not reveal itself. I cannot change that, and you know it,” the priestess said, taking a step closer to Lana.

“Plus, I don’t know who to take with me. I can’t go alone,” Lana said, trying to imagine the logistics even if she _did_ go.

“You will have to go alone.”

Lana chuckled, her jaw jutted out to the side. “Seriously? This is ridiculous and feels like a joke. I’ve literally already done this. I _can’t_ be alone, and I know this through experience.”

Nothing seemed to deter this woman, as she had barely flinched. “The Lord will guide you.”

"What bone is this, anyway?" Lana asked as she eyed the blade, wanting to change the subject. It was almost translucent and had a bluish tint to it. 

"From a creature of the night. It is an ancient weapon, forged thousands of years ago."

"The black stone?"

"Obsidian,” she said, taking another step forward. "Sedona called the blade The Unmaker.”

Lana looked over the excellent quality of the blade, and she swore she _felt_ how old it was, and it reminded her of the magic in the fire. That alone, for a solid moment, convinced Lana that this was real. But she shook her head as she glanced back up to the woman. "I can't go anywhere until my sister is back. Plain and simple,” she declared. 

The priestess nodded. "That is fair. I will come back within a week. But we cannot wait any longer than that.”

And like that, the priestess turned around and began to leave. _They have the oddest code of social conduct._

“Aren’t you taking the blade?” Lana asked as the priestess continued to head for the door.

The woman merely smiled, oozing the essence of Asshai as she turned to face Lana. “I had a job to deliver it to you and see you off. The blade must remain in your hands until Thoros appears. It is your burden to get it to the next phase. I _will_ be back to see that responsibility through.”

…

Eerily enough, as predicted, Dany was back within four days, flying in on Drogon in the middle of the night. All three dragons burnt the fleet of the masters as Dany reclaimed Meereen.

Lana had no option but to tell her sister what had occurred. Lana had spent a lot of time with the blade, and sure enough, she could feel _something_ alive in there, an energy waiting to burst out. 

Daenerys was not pleased.

“You are leaving, again?” she asked when Lana confronted her.

Lana sighed, anticipating this reception. "This is for the Lord of Light.”

"You keep placing him above me, your real family, and your _queen_ ,” Dany scolded, her hair only partially up and gently blowing with the breeze.

"The lord of light is real, and so is the night. It’s older than any of us,” Lana implored.

Dany nearly rolled her eyes. "Then why don't I fight the night, if it is so dangerous? Why should I sit here and squabble about with masters and pyramids if there is something larger that needs to be faced?" 

"You very well may have to,” Lana said with a gravity that contrasted Dany’s mockery. “Sedona, the woman who adopted me, has said many times that I am to help you bring dragon fire to the west.”

Dany moved only her eyes to Lana, although those words seemed to break through to the queen. “Truly?”

“Yes. Aside from wanting to meet you, it was the main thing that motivated me to seek you out.”

"What if something happens to you?"

Lana shrugged her shoulders, holding out a hand. “Then it was meant to be."

"Your god and these women could be wrong,” Dany said, now facing Lana. 

"They often aren't. Sometimes, yes, but even then, you could argue the Lord wanted those results in the first place."

The purple eyes grew with scrutiny. "I didn't know you were such a believer. I thought it might have just been your order."

"I grew up surrounded by it, your grace. It is the lands where your dragon eggs came from. You used blood magic that night to hatch them. You know it's real, too,” Lana said, taking a small step forward.

Dany gazed at Lana for a long time, her eyes softening. "I have seen other magic, as well,” she said, looking away and walking to the balcony rails, a frustrated sigh escaping her. “You are right; I know it is real. But if that’s real, then doesn’t that mean that something greater is going on?" 

Dany turned to face Lana with furrowed brows. Lana nodded. "And your dragon fire is meant for it. Or something along those lines. The Lord is annoyingly vague at times."

"So then shouldn't I be doing things to help you?" Dany asked, the mockery gone. 

"No. I don’t think so. If you ever need to change your course, you will know it. For now, act as you would. We may need the seven kingdoms first, for all I know. If the Lord needs you directly, someone will see it in the flames."

Daenerys sighed, a hand sliding off of the balcony rails. "Please don't go alone." 

"I must. She said I must,” Lana said with less enthusiasm. She was not happy about that part. Lana only survived the last time because of Clegane. "I will be leaving soon,” Lana said, pushing thoughts of him out.

"I don't like this."

"It is my role, your grace.”

Dany sighed and neared Lana, holding both of her forearms in her hands. They were similar in size and shape, but Lana’s arms had more nicks and scars than Dany. "You are my only family.”

“And we only have one planet. If whatever darkness the priestesses sees is real, then this will all be for nothing. We all have a role to play, and this is mine.”

Dany sighed, looking down before saying, “Then I will meet you in Dragonstone. When I arrive, that’s where I will go.”

The sisters shared more moments of conversation, discussing the logistics of it all. Lana explained her childhood more, and Dany seemed to understand by the end of it. They finally exchanged more kind words, and Lana left to tell Tyrion, Jorah, and Selmy goodbye.

The next day, Lana departed with a new outfit, new weapons, and fresh wind in her sails. 

…

"So, I am just going to come out and ask it - do you know where the Brotherhood is?" Lana asked while at a large Inn in Maidenpool, eating her kidney pie. It was a rather dull day for business, and she was grateful for the quietness. 

"What business you got with them?" the Innkeeper asked, narrowing one eye, his bushy, white eyebrow furrowing low.

"Just business, as many do,” she said, wiping some crumbs from her chin.

"Somewhere in the Riverlands is all anyone knows."

She couldn’t help it. She had to ask. "You haven't seen a large man with a burned face roaming around, have you?" Lana asked.

He ruminated on that, rubbing his chin as he looked off, a dull grating sound heard from the stubble on his face. 

"There was a rumor traveling the lands that a giant, hardy woman with a squire took down such a man. That was a while ago, though."

She nearly choked on her pie. "Excuse me?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"Rumors travel all the time, my lady.”

She couldn’t tell if her veins were warming or growing cold, or if it was a mixture of both. Either way, she felt a surge of something entirely unpleasant in them. "Who is this woman?" Lana asked, looking at the floor. 

"She's nearly his size, with a Lannister pommel."

Chills washed over Lana. _There is no way this is true. If so, that changes everything._ "How certain are you of this rumor?" she asked, looking back up to him.

"It's got good details at an Inn in the Riverlands, where the woman resided afterward, getting cleaned up after the fight and all. She was in rough shape.” 

"You’re telling me that a giant woman beat a man with a burned face? Called the Hound?" Lana asked, slamming her elbow on the table as she spoke with her hand, her breathing growing shallow.

"Aye, about the woman and the burned face. Don’t know if it was the Hound or not. There’s been no reports of him anywhere, though,” he said, crossing his arms to rest them above his growing belly.

Lana looked down at her pie and put it down, the crust crumbling. She started to feel sick. She hadn't considered that he would be bested out here. Why was he back in the damned Riverlands after taking Arya to her aunt? Even if he wasn't coming for Lana, he should have gone to a Free City to sell his sword. 

What had in the seven hells happened to him? 

“What is the name of this woman?” Lana asked with a tone she hadn’t used since she was a Crimson member. 

“Don’t know, my lady,” he said, unnerved by her sudden change in demeanor. 

"How old is the rumor?" she asked, pushing her plate away and donning her leather gloves on after wiping her hands on her dress. 

"Almost two years. You alright?"

"Yes, thank you for the pie. It was delicious. I am just full now," she said curtly, dropped a good tip, and got up to leave. She barged through the door of the Inn, stepping hotly into the grass of the Riverlands. 

It made her throat burn, as the surrounding world was so much like it was nearly two years ago, and it only made her think of Clegane. _He might actually be dead_. She got on her horse, put her bag on the back, and began heading along the river. 

She rode in the direction she supposed was the correct one, according to the map, nearly panting with rage as she tried to numb what threatened to bubble in her chest. 

There was _no_ way Clegane died. He was the best fucking fighter in the seven kingdoms. But she knew he was infected, hungry, and probably lost a significant amount of muscle mass. Those rumors were nearly as old as she had been in Meereen, which meant he went straight to the Riverlands after the Eyrie, no doubt dropping Arya off.

She gripped the reins tighter. 

The threat of her throat burning unnerved her, and a part of her even wanted to cry about it. She didn’t know why. She had only known him for just over a month, and that was a long time ago.   
She had been so mad at him, thinking he abandoned her. 

Perhaps it was guilt that got to her the most. This whole time she hated him, and yet he might have just been killed. 

He might truly be gone.

It hadn’t been much later, when the sun was still high in the sky peeking through the puffy clouds, that she came across a large group, of about a dozen or so, traveling. She was somber at this point, still grappling with the potential truths she learned.

They were all resting on the roadside, fixing one of the wagon wheels, regarding her with caution. She nodded in their direction. 

"Traveling alone, my lady?" one of them shouted.

"Depends on why you want to know," she said, halting her horse.

"Well, if you’re alone, then you could travel with us. It’s not safe for a lady to be alone. Where you be heading to?

"The Riverlands."

"You're in them."

She nodded, looking around, her lack of keen directional awareness showing. "To the west, in the area where the river forks out to the ocean," she said. The Brotherhood was rumored to be among there.

"Well, we are heading west. Would you like to join us?"

"Who are you?" she asked with a furrowed brow, looking over them.

"Some villagers who have had their old homes razed in the war. We're going to build a new village along the Blue Fork,” a woman said.

"You're far," Lana said, finally knowing _some_ things about these lands.

"We came to the harbor to collect some items that they don't sell at Fair Market."

She looked around and saw women, children, and some elderly. Unless they were all Faceless Men, they were rather harmless. "Why offer travel to me? You don't know me."

"Not safe to travel alone. Just thought I'd offer. You seem blameless enough."

Lana sighed. After learning about Clegane, she didn’t want to be alone out in these lands by herself. It was too easy to get lost in her head. "I wouldn't mind traveling with you, if you'll have me."

When they fixed their wheel and got back on the road, Lana spoke to a few of the villagers and learned that they were just trying to rebuild, certain that the war was over. Little did they know that Daenerys would be arriving in the coming months to start it all over again.

Lana learned that the kingdom sat under King Tommen, and soon Queen Margery. Dorne was still in alliance with the crown as Myrcella was with her betrothed. For a moment, Lana wondered if it was even worth it. The people here were tired of war, and she understood that. Tommen was no Joffrey, whereas if that arrogant prick still sat on the throne, there wouldn’t be any question. 

As they rested for the night, Lana lied there, staring at the stars. She wondered if Clegane had done the same when he was struck down, or if the woman killed him clean. 

Needless to say, Lana didn’t sleep well that night, haunted by thoughts of Clegane dying out in these lands, somewhere, alone. What if his corpse was still out there? She was not used to someone having such an impact on her, even though she only knew him for a short period. Time didn’t seem to help either as over the next few weeks of travel, she couldn’t stop thinking about Arya or Sandor. 

Her mind was granted some rest when they crossed a large bridge to reach the Blue Fork, coming upon the village they were all from. 

She gently smiled as she saw they were building a steeple. It was such a peaceful scene of everyone working together for a common goal. 

It prompted Lana to heavily reconsider if it was right for Dany to come through and challenge all of this. As she contemplated, Lana rode over and tied up her horse to a makeshift stable where a man was tending to them. She had the special dagger at her hip, the pommel wrapped in leather with the rest of it concealed. 

It wouldn’t leave her body until Thoros of Myr was before her. 

An older man with salt and pepper curly hair approached. "The name is Ray. Who are you, traveler? I don't recognize you," he asked, and Lana noticed the seven-pointed star around his neck. She hoped he wouldn't mind if he ever found out she followed R'hllor.

"The name is Lana," she said with a smile, taking off her leather gloves to leave with her bag. "I come from Essos and have a message for the Brotherhood without Banners."

He snorted, revealing surprisingly nice teeth. "Good luck. You and half the kingdoms."

"I heard they should be in this general area,” she said, turning to face him.

"They are, but catching them is like trying to bottle a storm. You can hear them, see them, and even track them, but they are just damned impossible to capture," he said, and she smiled. It was refreshing to see he wasn't like normal septons. 

"Well, your villagers have been most kind. I wish you good fortune in building this place."

"You speak like you are leaving soon."

"Well, Lily offered me some food for the night, but I don't know if I am allowed to just stay here."

"Nonsense, stay for a while. I'll be honest. The Brotherhood _does_ travel these lands. You're better off staying put. We see a lot of travelers here. Can always pass on the news you're seeking them out. What message you giving them?"

"That the Lord of Light wants a word."

"Well, in case you can't tell, I am a Septon. So sorry if my religion offends you."

She smiled even bigger. She could get along with him no problem. "It's alright. These people are happy with it. It's not harming anyone."

"Ah, see? Now that's the attitude I like. Stay for a few weeks, then if they aren't here, you can go out and find them,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and guiding her towards the village.

"Thank you, Ray."

"Of course. And even though you're a guest, don't be afraid to help around here. It could use every pair of hands that we can get."

"Absolutely," Lana said with a light laugh. 

She spent some time among the people, helping the women sew their crops and pull some food for a dinner that would feed the whole village. It was really something to witness all of them coming together to build this place. _These_ were the people Dany was coming to rule, not the lords or ladies. 

Lana would have to tell her sister that if Dany could take the Red Keep in the most warless way possible, that that would be ideal. People wouldn't want to follow a warmonger now that the dirt had settled. Overall, Lana wondered if this was why the Lord sent her here alone, to find these people, and to learn about them for Daenerys.

After a time, the man name Ray started to help the village wrap up as stews warmed, the vegetables cooked, and the men even came back with a fresh deer they butchered for dinner.

Lana was helping distribute bread when a few men emerged from the woods with logs on their shoulders, finishing up for the day. Most of them teamed up to carry a log. By the time they appeared, the sharpness of the sun's rays was far behind the hills. 

Then there was one man who carried an entire log by himself.

Lana glanced at him and smirked. _Guess these lands just produce men like that._

Then she stopped what she was doing, and slowly looked back up. She had recognized him nearly immediately, but was so certain that he was dead, that her mind simply didn't register it.

No. There's no way.

And yet, very few could mimic that scar, his size, his hair, and that scowl that he always carried. 

He seemed healthy, thick, and capable. 

_What the fuck? He's just living out here this whole time?_

She mindlessly gave bread to someone as she stared at Clegane. When he threw the log down, she left her post without a word and walked over in his direction, pulling up her dress to allow a faster gate.

"Sandor?" she shouted. " _Clegane?_ "

The man turned around with wide, angry eyes. 

Those were _his_ eyes. 

He seemed unsure, like he didn't quite know what was coming at him. "I thought you were dead!" she yelled. She was elated to see that he was alive. There was something so sweet about it not being true. 

She ran further, his eyes still wide, and fuck it, she wrapped her arms around him. “I can’t believe it!”

As she embraced him, his heart beat against her head, close enough that without his armor, she could smell him now. Not the stench that they all bore when on the road, but just the bare smell someone had. She squeezed him tighter, although it took a lot to wrap her arms around him. He was much thicker and healthier than when she last saw him. 

His body was rigid, his arms still out to the side, but he didn't push her away. 

"The fuck are you doing?" he asked, his voice rumbling in his chest, his voice laxer than normal with those words.

She backed away, smiling. "It's called a hug, you idiot." She slid her hands off of him, and she saw many things flash in his eyes, his arms lowering as she pulled away. 

The confusion, emotion, and concern all left as he furrowed his brows. “Wait, what the _fuck_ are you doing in the Riverlands? By yourself?”

"Looking for the Brotherhood."

He snickered. "Decided to abandon your sister and join the Brotherhood?”

A stifled laugh escaped Lana before she was aware of it. By all the gods that existed, she had missed this man. She gazed into his eyes, which were gentler than before. "I have a message for them."

"Well, good luck, they are a bunch of cunts," he said. "Tried to execute me once."

"Wait, what are _you_ doing here, as well?" she asked, the question delayed by her enthusiasm.

His gaze hardened, and he looked her over. "It's a long story."

"Well, I want to hear it."

"Got into a fight. Didn’t win, but didn’t die either," he said.

"Well, I am happy you're not dead."

His jaw clenched at those words, his eyes processing whatever he was feeling. For a moment, she thought she saw the hostility relaxing, but before he could say anything, Ray rescued the awkward tension.

"Should have seen him when we first found him. Looked like a bear chewed him up and spit him back out," Ray said, and Clegane glared at him.

"Can't help I am a big fucker and hard to kill."

"Don't work past sundown again. Take a break," Ray said. 

"Only got two more logs left. Might as well get them," Clegane said, warmer to Ray than he was to Lana. Sandor turned around and headed back off into the woods.

"Well, at least there's one person alive he isn't a cunt to anymore," Lana said with a wounded tone. 

She didn’t know what she expected, but she had hoped for more of a reception than _that_. She didn’t really know why either. She knew who he was. 

And yet, why did she continue to hope he was more than the Hound?

"Don't fret too much. You know, you're the first person that's been allowed to touch him who didn't get assaulted afterward. Except for when we found him. Didn't seem to care if we touched him then."

Ray looked over to Lana, and she didn’t respond. She really didn’t expect Clegane to act like that, as if she had been no more important than one of the horses they traveled with. 

She heard Ray sigh, and she looked back to him, a few of his curls moving about in the wind while he squinted, the wrinkles on face deepening. Then he laughed. "Honestly, I don't doubt that's it's been a long time since he's gotten a hug. Seemed to have no fucking clue what to do. Think you may have scared him a little."

She couldn’t help but laugh herself, as that sounded just like Clegane. "What happened to him?" she asked with a grave voice.

"Got into a fight and fell off a cliff. Broke his leg pretty good. One of the gods was looking out for him, might even have been your god. Someone was, as it wasn't but a few days later that we found him. Thought I came across a corpse. Nearly shit myself when he coughed. Patched him up, and now he is helping build this place. He heals surprisingly well. Probably why he's still alive after all the fighting he's done."

Lana felt deep sorrow at the thought of him dying alone. There was something about Sandor Clegane that seemed to deserve a second chance, despite what he had done, and being rather emotionless to her just now. “Thank you for taking care of him," she said with a furrowed brow.

"He's not such a foul man. Just likes to pretend to be. I think he's quite funny. Super fucking helpful too to have a man of his size around. Didn't realize a single person could carry a log by themselves."

She looked at Ray. "Was there a girl with him? When you found him?"

"He was all alone."

 _Arya must have made it to the Eryie._ “That's sad,” she said with a frown.

"Aye, but it's a threat long gone now. It's neat to meet you, by the way. Didn’t piece together who you were when you said your name. I never pictured you actually to be beautiful."

She stiffened. "What does that mean?"

"Clegane spoke of you a few times when he was delirious, then only sparsely in passing once he started to heal, although he’d get pissy if I pressed him about it. I won't reveal much more. That's for him to say. Just thought you should know in case he never decides to say anything, which he might not. His poor heart is all twisted up in there. I think his acceptance with death shook something in him."

She smiled. "You know, I was never a fan of the seven-pointed faith. But you're alright, Ray."

The rest of the day carried on as Sandor Clegane helped bring out the last two logs. As the sun began to set, everyone sat down around a fire with a full belly. Lana was helping clean up when she noticed he finally made his way over, finished for the day, and she wondered if he needed some food.

A woman with curly brown hair beat Lana to it and brought him some food and drink as he sat on a rock, away from the group. He nodded at the woman. He even talked to her for a small moment, and there was a distinct lack of hostility that ignited something in Lana. 

Lana walked over to Clegane with a bit of steam. If he could be nice to that woman, whoever she woman was, then he could spare some time to answer Lana’s damned questions. 

Lana kept glancing to the curly haired woman, her gaze harsher than she liked. She considered that pang in her chest. Did she really care for him so much, that the thought of another tending to him made her feel envious?

"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?" Clegane asked, not looking at her as she sat down on a rock next to him.

"You can be a grumpy ass if you want, but you're still the only person I know here."

"Go make new friends."

"What happened to Arya?" she asked, ignoring him, not able to leave him alone until that was at least answered.

"After I fell off a damned cliff, she robbed me and left me,” he plainly stated.

Lana thought that was a bit cold and honestly surprised. "Why was she not the Vale?"

"Aunt was dead."

Lana laughed, looking around and shaking her head. What kind of shit luck has befallen them?

"Arya had the same reaction."

"Can't believe she robbed you and left you," Lana said, although the thought of seeing Arya as a Faceless was more realistic than before. 

"Well, if she can rob me as I'm dying, she should survive. Nothing she could have done anyway. I was beyond her repair."

Lana eyed him, wondering why he was so indifferent to her. So she’d try it again, wanting to get _some_ emotion out of him. "I am glad you didn't die."

That prompted him to look at her, taking in a deep breath. "What are you doing out here? Why are you looking for the Brotherhood?"

"I got my reasons. Have to get a message to them, as I said," she said.

He continued to glare at her, then looking down to his food and dipped his bread in his stew. She had so many things she wanted to say to him, and she couldn’t figure out what to say next. 

_He always confuses me._

"You act like you're going to burst,” he said with a mix of loathing and amusement.

“Well, it’s because I really thought you were dead. It bothered me a lot, to be honest.”

"Why would it do that," he said more than asked as he took a bite of his soggy bread.

"It just did. I heard that a big woman took you down and I worried that you died alone. It ate at me because I kept thinking you didn't deserve that," she said, looking to her hands.

"Only a person who doesn't really know me would say that,” he scolded.

"Clegane. You bashed my head in twice and tied me to a fucking tree," she said. 

To her pleasant surprise, he genuinely laughed, and it fit his face well, his smile somehow agreeable for a man as angry as him. "Aye, I guess you know me a bit," he said. He was calmer, in general, than the last time she saw him. "So, then you shouldn't be happy to see me."

"Oh, fuck off with that," she said, and his gaze slowly latched to hers. "You had your brush with death, a real nice, close one. Now take the time you have left and do something with it."

"That's what I am doing here."

“So, you enjoy it?”

“Obviously or I wouldn’t fucking be out here.”

That's it. He _was_ colder to her. She didn’t know why. It felt like her worry for him was for nothing, an anger brewing in her heart. This man really knew how to be uncaring. 

"So, how much has changed since then?" he asked while he still ate, as if there wasn’t an awkward tension.

Lana drew in a long breath, not sure if she should stay or just up and leave. She decided to pry him further. "I know more about how to be a lady. Tyrion is at our side-"

"Tyrion?" he asked, his eyes suspicious.

"Killed his father."

"Already knew that, but never saw him going to your sister."

"He is her hand now."

“Of-fucking-course. Always needs to be a Lannister cunt by the monarchy. You still a Storm, or you a lady now too?”

"It's never really been addressed. I am just treated like her sister."

"Got any alliances yet?"

"Varys is working on it."

“Well, you need to work harder. People are settling in now with Tommen. Won’t look good to kill a boy for the throne.”

“A boy with Cersei in his ear.”

He smiled coldly, shaking his head. “Aside from killing my brother, watching that bitch die and lose everything really helps to keep one going.”

“Well, if thoughts of her dying kept you alive, then I guess I have one thing to be thankful to her for,” Lana said, watching a rabbit hop in the distance, prodding at him one more time with her words. 

“You only knew me for a little over a month,” he said cruelly, his tone curt enough that she no longer had to guess if there was a discomfort there.

She sighed, grinding her teeth. Fine, she got the message. He was done with whatever they had, and she had to move on. But she wasn’t about to part without telling him what she felt. She had learned that that was ill-wise, especially in a world like this where it might be the last thing ever said to someone. 

“You’re right. It’s also been two years since I last saw you, and for some annoying, fucking reason, I’ve thought about you the entire time, even though I was pissed at thinking you abandoned me. Apparently, it was a complete waste of my time. So thanks for showing me that.”

He glared at her with ungracious eyes, and for a moment, she felt like she had made up every interaction with him in her head. He finally looked away to drink the rest of his ale. She let him be silent, wondering if she should get up and pretend that he didn’t exist.

She had not anticipated coming across Clegane and having be antagonistic with her. She knew they had sexual chemistry, but she _swore_ they had more than that. Even after their short time together. She thought that at least a _little bit_ had been established between them.

She sighed, gripped her dress, and decided to leave the mean fucker alone. “Well, I guess I’ll go make new friends,” she said, about to rise. 

"I thought of you often," he finally said, his tone solemn. She didn't know what to say to that. She just looked at him, all of her boiling anger dampened as she froze in her movements.

He continued. "I didn't know what to think when I first saw you earlier today, alright? Still don’t know what to think. Thought it was a lie at first, and then all I saw was that it had been two years, and you're probably different by now. I was happy in this little fucking village, remembering you as a special kind of woman. A part of me liked having you in my head, just like that. But seeing you meant that I had to face whether or not you had become like them. _That’s_ why I’m not happy to see you, not because I haven’t been thinking about you."

She didn’t realize she hadn’t been breathing that entire time. When he looked at her, she remembered to indeed, breath, her chest rising and falling dramatically as she looked down, playing with a thread on the seam of her sleeve that was starting to come undone. What did she say to _that?_ He never really gave anything more than backhanded compliments.

He looked back ahead, and she mulled that over. She thought back to his words about her being fresh like a whore on her first day on the job, and it reminded herself this was a jaded motherfucker. 

“To be honest, I haven’t changed a whole lot. I’ve just gotten better at playing the part,” she said, thinking that that’s what he needed to hear.

“It always starts that way,” he said, languidly looking her way, any warmth that might have been there firmly obscured. “At some point, it’ll sink in, and you’ll be too concerned about your life as a pretty little lady, fucking her lord husband, and no longer giving a real shit about anyone else. It always happens. No point in hoping for anything else.”

She was shocked that he was seriously this removed from her, because of fear. Well fine, if she remembered anything from their interactions, she knew not to go lightly on him. She leaned over, trying her best to show how serious she was. “If you think I’m going to somehow become a proper, prim, prissy little thing, then you’re more jaded than perceptive, Clegane. So you can shove that right up your ass, because it's not fair to hate me for something I'm not,” she chided.

He didn’t change his expression, save for his eyes that seemed slightly _more_ hostile, his powerful chest rising and falling with a sigh, his eyes narrowing on her. Then he gently shook his head and gazed at the plains and trees, a small chuckle escaping him.

He looked like he was about to say something else, but the silence didn't last long as the sound of approaching footsteps stole their attention. The woman that brought Clegane food neared them.

“We are having a sermon, if you are interested,” she said, mostly looking to Clegane. 

“You know I don’t fucking do those,” he said.

“ _She_ might,” the woman said, finally looking at Lana. 

Clegane was quick to quip. “She follows the red god.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” the woman said, her eyes both disapproving and self-important. 

Lana shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you know, it’s complicated. What’s your name, by the way?” Lana asked, not wanting to stay on that topic for too long.

“Jenny. Anyway, Lana, Ray wanted to introduce you formally,” Jenny said.

“Oh," Lana said, not wanting to leave this moment, now that she had finally broken through Clegane. But she couldn't disrespect Ray. "I guess I’ll go, then. Can’t hurt.".

Jenny glanced to Clegane one last time, and to Lana’s surprise, he rose to follow.

Lana followed Jenny over to the central bonfire and Clegane went to sit on his own log, mostly by himself. Ray gave a brief sermon, Lana said a few words, and everyone greeted her. She smiled and nodded to village, taking a seat on a log herself as Ray continued to speak. 

During the rest of the sermon, Lana glanced around, her gaze halting on Clegane, who eyed her from across the fire.

Lana turned her head to face him fully, and he gently leaned back in his seat, taking a drink, not backing down from his stare. His cautious gaze was discernible, even from a distance. 

_‘I was happy in this little fucking village, remembering you as a special kind of woman. A part of me liked having you in my head, just like that.’_

She breathed deeper, inhaling the campfire smoke, his still eyes hard on her, and yet she didn’t feel afraid. 

Instead, a warmth spread in her chest. 

In his own, Clegane way of wording things, he admitted that he missed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D’aawww, Sandor! 
> 
> I know, he wasn’t terribly warm here, but I promise, he gets there. He’s like attracting a deer to feed from your hand. It’s going to take more than one try lol 
> 
> THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT! I got so much enthusiasm last chapter! I am blown away. I love all of you so much. It's AMAZING that people are pumped about this story. Again, I don't have the right words to thank you, so I can only do that by getting to work on the next chapter!


	18. By the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I broke through 70k words here!!! That's crazy!!! Sorry for the slower update. I've been working on some original works and fanart for it for when I go to launch one day in the next 6-9 months or so. Unless an agent picks me up in that meantime!

Lana walked over to Clegane, weaving through those occupied by the merry mood as they danced and played.

“You once scolded me for throwing those very looks,” she said, sitting next to Clegane. 

“I do whatever the fuck I want.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Well, at least you learned humility,” she said with a heavy dose of sarcasm, leaning on her knees.

He snickered. “Fuck the gods and their humility. Tried to humble me with Brienne of fucking Tarth. Not even _she_ can kill me, although she’s the closest yet.”

“That must have been a giant woman,” Lana said.

“Aye, she was a big fucker. Not bad with her sword. She was lucky she had fresh steel and was healthy.” He drained his ale. “How long are you here for?”

“I don’t want to stay for more than a few weeks. If that time comes, then I should probably try to find the Brotherhood on my own,” she said.

Lana eyed the fire as many played around it. Someone even had a mandolin and was singing a song. The folly gave Lana and Clegane a moment to have a conversation with relative privacy.

“You never mentioned why you wanted them,” Clegane said, turning his head to face her. In their eye contact and proximity, the frazzled nerves from nearly two years ago returned.

“Got a delivery to make. Apparently, there are things north of the wall that are coming for us all.”

“There’s always some doom somewhere,” he grumbled, his gaze moving back to the world before them. 

“I can’t tell if this one is real or not, but the fire priestesses surely thinks so,” Lana said. She looked up and watched the embers climb into the starry sky, gently floating down on the dancing crowd.

“What do _you_ think?”

“I’ve looked into the flames long ago. Saw some things…I wouldn’t be surprised if this _was_ real, but I won’t be able to accept it until I see it.”

“What you delivering?”

“This sword,” she said, opening up her arm and nodding down to it.

“Why the fuck did you come on your own?” he asked, their eyes connecting again, his brows furrowed. 

“I was told to.”

He snickered. “Do everything you’re told? You’re more like a lady than you yammer on about.”

She smiled. “If the gods had humbled you _properly_ , maybe I would have had you to escort me here.”

“Your side is in deep shit if they can’t spare _one_ soldier to go with you.”

She didn’t respond right away. His familiar humor made her stop to appreciate that he was, indeed, alive. 

She looked back to the campfire, the corner of her mouth still pulled into a smile. 

“It was probably for the better that I traveled alone, honestly. The priestess was insistent on it, claiming my safety was no issue with the Lord watching. Although, I really could have used that luck when there was a bounty on my head. Wait…I just realized that I still don’t know if there is a bounty there or not,” she said, frowning. 

He chuckled. “Still can’t believe I had you and the Stark girl all at once, and _still_ got no gold.” 

Lana sucked her cheeks in on both sides before deviously smiling. She couldn’t help it. She loved their chemistry from before and was dying to have it back. “You didn’t even get a good fuck out of it either. You were so close, too,” she said, feigning sympathy. 

The rarest of smiles etched on his face to reveal a toothy grin, biting his lip as he shook his head. “You just _have_ to fucking go there, don’t you?” he asked, not even looking at her.

“Just pointing out the facts,” she said.

He moved mostly only his eyes to her, which were both manic and humorous. A wonderful buzz of hormones swelled in Lana. “You _really_ gonna fucking start this again?”

“You going to finish it this time?” she asked, damn near proud of herself for such a witty remark. She was _so_ proud, in fact, that she wanted to end the conversation on that note. She smiled and rose. 

But of course, he wasn’t going to let her walk away. As soon as she stood, he grabbed the inside of her thigh through her dress, his hand large enough that he had a solid hold on her leg. It had been a while since she felt that kind of vibrating warmth in her stomach. She looked down at him, her mouth slightly agape, breathing heavy from a surge of _want_.

“If you still got it, pretty sure any future lord husband will want to spoil that maidenhead of yours. You start this again, and you’ll be returning to your sister without it. _Especially_ if I travel with you, as we’ll be all alone," he cautioned. His eyes were like that of a hunter, warning her that she'd be walking into a trap.

She gently leaned in, not wanting to draw a scene. She thought of a remark, and wasn’t sure if it were entirely true or not, but spoke it anyway. “It’s _my_ life, and I won’t bow that low to any husband.”

He snickered. “You're right, not for your lord husband. But you’ll be bowing low for me alright.”

 _Oh._ That changed everything in her. His hand gripped her thigh tighter. The song ended and the crowd cheered, pulling them both back to reality. He let go. She found irony in their conversation. They were at a sermon discussing the deflowering of a virgin before marriage. 

Lana would never have made a good follower of the seven. 

Despite him letting go of her, she continued to stare at him. His gaze didn’t let up either, the intensity from before fully reignited between them.

“So, you two know each other?” Jenny asked as she approached. Lana didn’t recognize her at first, as her curly hair was tied back. 

Lana took a second to recompose herself, straightening her dress and breathing slowly. “We’ve met.”

“Small world, apparently. Anyway, I am retiring for the night. Before then, I needed to ask you, Lana, if you would go with us into town tomorrow? It won’t be until later in the evening. We are just riding to a few towns over to grab some basic supplies. Our village is growing nearly every day,” she said with a smile that both seemed genuine and false at the same time.

Lana blinked, her body still alive with hormones, and she had to really focus to consider that. _Leaving. Going away. Just for a few days._ What if the Brotherhood came while she was gone? "What about someone else?"

"We don't have many spare hands, without pulling from needed labor."

“Who all is going?” Clegane asked. 

“Mary, Isaac, Geoffrey, Rubald, and Donna.”

“That’s not a bad group. Why they going if we _just_ went for supplies?”

“We’re always growing, as I said. Using things faster than we can replace them.”

“Where to?”

“Fairmarket.”

“A day’s ride. She can go.”

Lana threw a questioning look at Clegane. Since when did he speak for her, or give her permission for things?

“What? Just making sure you don’t go traveling around the Riverlands with a bunch of nances. I got things to do here and don’t have any armor. Wasn't keen on going myself.”

“Why would _you_ need to go?” Jenny asked.

He furrowed his brows. “My affairs concerning her are a private matter.”

Lana gazed at Clegane. This is what she wanted in the first place – a knight to guard her. At first, she had been taken aback. Now, she appreciated it. He was looking out for her, and she trusted Clegane’s opinion over anyone else’s here. "Sure, I'll help,” Lana said, looking over to Jenny.

“Good,” Jenny said, although no warmth remained in her eyes. “I’ll show you where you can sleep tonight.”

Lana nodded and looked back to Clegane, then back to Jenny, who led them away.

Lana felt too awake to sleep now. All she could think about was what would have happened between her and Sandor? There wasn’t anywhere to mindlessly fuck out here, except for deep in the woods. And Lana didn’t fancy the idea of her first time with Clegane being in the deep, dark woods. 

“How did you two meet? Jenny asked, pulling Lana from her thoughts. They were walking along the darkened village towards a covered area in the distance where a few braziers were lit. 

“On the road,” she said. “Are you close to him?” Lana asked, more curious than jealous. 

“I helped nurse him back to health. He acts mean, but I see right through it,” she said with pride, turning to face Lana in the dark. 

Lana had to stop to allow a child to run by who was hunting lightning bugs, the insects floating around like spirits coming from the grounds. 

Jenny pressed on, “What is your family name? You don’t look like the women from around here.”

“I don’t have a family name. I am a Storm.”

Jenny stopped. “ _You’re_ Lana Storm?”

Lana raised a brow as she stared at Jenny, the moonlight barely touching her face. “Yes? Do you know me?” _Shit, is she a faceless here for the bounty? If I eve still have it?_

“He spoke of you,” she said uncomfortably and moved forward, to which Lana let out a sigh of relief. “Although he didn’t like to be pressed about it. I thought you might be a northerner, with them naming their daughters Lyanna often. How odd that you would make an appearance…”

“I hope it causes no trouble,” Lana said, offering up as much warmth as she could, not wanting to cause strife.

“When will you be leaving?” Jenny asked, her tone flat. 

“In a few weeks, maybe sooner.”

“Well, I have grown fond of Sandor and have been trying to gain his favor. So, do what you want with that," Jenny said awkwardly.

Even then, Lana felt no threat by this woman. If anything, she found it interesting. There were so many people crossing paths in this world that otherwise would never have intersected before. It was as if pieces on the war table were being arranged.

“What is your history?” Lana asked.

“Lost my village to the war. Uncle was a Maester, and I learned a lot from him.”

“I am sorry you lost something.”

“Hopefully we are done with that,” Jenny curtly said and led Lana to a covering where many lied on heaps of hay. She joined them and saw that the men had their own, and another one was built for families.

“All we can do is rebuild,” Jenny said, pointing to an area of hay for Lana. “We get up at sunrise and use the woods for defecating. There is a shovel on that post over there that we use to dig holes. Take a river rock from that pile as well. We put them on the buried shit, so we know to avoid it.”

Lana nodded and sat down in her hay pile. After a time, the braziers were put out, the only thing left was the smoldering core that glowed red. Lana lied down in the prickly hay and wished she had some fabric to put over it.

As she lied there, staring at the canopy above, she spent her time wondering what in seven hells was going through Clegane's head, what he had been through, and what he planned to do with his life.

She wondered if he would come with Lana to Dragonstone, if she asked it.

A debate in her head kept her awake as she wondered how far she should go with teasing the man. If Clegane made a move for Lana, she honestly didn’t think she had the willpower to stop him. 

The other issue was that Lana wasn’t certain about her obligation to maintain her virtue. 

In Essos, they hadn’t discussed her virtue much, other than stating it was something that would be useful for lords and unions. 

Lana honestly didn’t want to save her virtue for a man she didn’t love, even less for one she wasn’t attracted to.

It seemed so effortless to commit to when she thought that Clegane was far gone from her life.

Now, she was in Westeros, and Clegane was alive. 

She fell asleep that night with memories of their journey on the road.

°°°

When she next opened her eyes, the early sun was already in the sky, dew on the ground, and birds chirping in the trees. It prompted her to take in a deep, peaceful breath.

But the time they got the day started, Clegane was already back to building the steeple, and Lana was mostly helping the women mend clothes. She didn't know much about making them, but she could sew patchwork. 

Lana and her group weren’t leaving until the sun set past midday, hoping to hit Fair Market that night, shop the following day, and travel the day after that. Lana was almost having fun playing at being a peasant.

They even got a midday break to hear a sermon from Ray. 

At the sermon, Lana sat on a log while Clegane was still chopping wood. She squinted and placed a hand over her eyes as the sky was cloudless, the sun unrelenting. 

At some point, she noticed Clegane was in the back, drinking from a canteen. Her focus on Ray’s words dulled as she kept glancing towards Sandor. 

Her full attention was stolen when a group of about eight men strolled by on horses. They were all dressed well with a bounty of weapons. None of their clothes matched, and the one in front had a mustard cloak on. 

Ray walked over to them. "Seven save you friends!"

"Are you building a village?" the one with the mustard cloak asked.

"That we are."

Lana looked over the men. The three in front looked more composed than the other five that were dirty with smug expressions. She didn't trust the lot of them. Her first thought was that they were bandits. 

"You're building it for the wrong god."

"And who is your god?"

"The only lord -- the Lord of Light,” the mustard cloak said. 

Lana’s entire posture changed from hostility to absolute curiosity. She licked her lips, looking over them once more.

_How in the fuck is there a follower of R’hllor – they must be from the Brotherhood!_

"Well, the sermon is over everyone. Let us get back to it," Ray said, shooing everyone away. Lana waded through the crowd, desperate to speak with them. She placed a firm hand on her blade's hilt, hoping that the Lord would successfully see her through this. 

"Do you know Thoros?" Lana asked, nearly pushing one of the villagers out of the way as the men looked ready to leave.

The one in the mustard cloak was shocked. "Why does that matter?"

"The Lord of Light wants me to have a word with him."

The man looked her over, his eyes changing from shock to a pleasant surprise. "You are welcome to come with us," he said. 

Lana didn't expect him to concede so soon. Well, what did she do? She had expected more disbelief from the man, or that he demand more proof from her. She looked around at the dirt, lightly shaking her head as she thought this over. Did she just leave? Just like that? They were of the lord, after all, and seemed to know Thoros. What about Clegane…

A firm hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her back as Sandor stood in front of her. "She's not going with you. Now fuck off."

The man in mustard narrowed his eyes on Clegane before looking back to Lana. 

“She seemed interested enough,” he said. 

“Don’t give a shit if she seemed like it. She’s not anymore,” Clegane said.

The mustard cloak man examined the scene once more, his smugness returning as he gazed as Lana. "Well, fair lady, I hope we will meet again,” he said, kicking his horse. And like that, they were off. 

Lana was about to shout something after them, but Clegane turned around and glared hard at her. She gave him a questioning look, her eyes darting to the Brotherhood and to Sandor’s angry face, gripping the pommel of the sword tighter.

"I need to find Thoros," she said, looking at Clegane. “That’s my mission here. They’re from the Brotherhood. I can’t let them ride away!”

"You really gonna ride off with those fuckers?"

"I don’t have an option," she pressed.

"As long as I'm standing here, I am not watching you ride off with men like them. The Brotherhood is already untrustworthy, and I bet you _those_ cunts aren’t pious. They just like working in favor of whatever fucking god grants them the most power."

Lana was both grateful for his care, and also annoyed, as this was _not_ that simple. "While I appreciate that, you're not my guard, and I _do_ have an obligation to follow them."

She tried to yank out of his grasp, but he gripped her shoulder tighter. "Aye, I’m not. _You're_ the one that gave me the choice to do what I wanted with my life, telling me to come for you or not. We parted ways because it was for the better, and we both knew it. But it’s hard to ignore you when you’re standing right in fucking front of me."

She was silent and didn't know if she should stay angry or not, his firm grasp and glare telling her he was serious. "Either way, I need Thoros. They know where he is. What else am I supposed to do? Chase them down and ask for a map?" she asked genuinely. 

"Why do you need him so bad?"

"It’s a holy command. On the chance this is all real, I could really fuck up a lot of things if I don’t do this," she said.

"Wait at least until these people got their temple built. Then I'll help you find him. I don’t care if your Lord says he’ll protect you. Seen a lot of people die while praying to be spared."

She stared at his unyielding, brown eyes. "What about your life here?" she asked with a soft tone.

"I stayed here to get some peace and quiet, as I said. Can't exactly have peace now that you're here."

"Oh, well, I didn't realize I was interrupting."

He scoffed. "I won't be able to sleep at night knowing you're wandering around the Riverlands chasing after fuckers like them. You’re as reckless as Arya, darting into an Inn full of Lannisters. Don’t know what the fuck gets into small women like you, but clearly it’s not common sense.”

She folded her lips inward, trying not to smile. She sighed and looked away. She supposed that she could delay her holy duty if it meant Clegane coming with her. If R’hllor were not pleased, then he could send a sign. Yes, she liked that option very much. “Fine. We can wait.”

His grip on her softened, and then he let go, nodding. “Good.”

Clegane didn’t linger, walking back to continue helping with the village. She laughed to herself. The idea of Clegane, out in the Riverlands, playing at being a villager was quite amusing. 

"You two have a complicated relationship," Ray said from behind.

She jumped. "I forgot you were there."

"I'll be honest with you. That man has changed. Maybe not entirely, but there was something to dying alone that I think helped him. Well, I mean, the mad fucker didn’t die, but he _had_ spent days by himself in pain, hunger and thirst, death always inching closer. That fucks with someone. I think for killers like he and I, we realize it's either time to move on or die killing."

Lana thought to the few assassins she knew that lived to old age. She resonated with that statement more than Ray knew. 

It was why she was out here. It was why she was trying to become a lady, even if something in her gut told her it was the wrong choice.

Jenny came for Lana shortly after to tell her that they were ready to head out. Jenny remained behind but saw them off, as apparently one of them was her brother. 

Lana didn’t get to see Clegane before leaving. 

It didn’t take more than three days to make their journey, buy their goods, and be on their way back. As the group of six traveled, they laughed and told stories of their lives, how they didn't care for the Lannisters, and how they didn't care much for war either. 

Lana slowly got to know them and realized that whenever Dany took the throne, Lana should look into recognizing this village as a formal location. These people deserved it. Not only did they work hard for it, but they did a fine job as well.

Especially with Ray leading them.

Three days from their departure and nearly returned, they rounded a hill, the cloudy, dreary day giving them good visibility without the sun beating down on them.

Although, in the distance, they saw about two dozen men approaching. 

Lana gripped the reigns of her horse, ready to take off and leave these people behind. Lana felt wrong for that initial reaction. Her instincts were never for heroics, but rather for self-preservation. She calmed herself once the scene before her unfolded. It was the man in the mustard cloak, except he and two others were bound, on horses, and led by a man with an eyepatch.

"What is going on?" one of the men with Lana asked. 

"Escorting these men,” the one with the eyepatch said, his voice like a smooth, large wooden intrsument. A chilly breeze pulled at Lana’s hair, the clouds moving fast above. 

"What did they do? We saw them just a few days ago,” another of their group asked, and Lana watched on with caution. 

"And they are our prisoners now." 

"Why?"

"They ransacked and murdered a great deal of villagers nearby."

The five escorting Lana let out shrieks and started demanding more information. Lana's heart sank. 

There was only one nearby village in this area.

"Survivors?" Lana asked, finally speaking up.

"There are some women and children alive. Some of our men are with them now, and we are taking these men to exact justice.”

Everyone but Lana rode past the men to see who had lived and who died.

“A man with a burned face?” Lana asked, watching her group ride on without her.

“How much of a burn?”

“Like the Hound, if you know him,” she said, breathing heavier, glaring at the man in the mustard cloak. It still hadn’t fully sunk in yet that the charming village she was riding to had been destroyed. It seemed nearly impossible to fathom. Why would they _do_ that?

“Aye, I do know him,” the one with the eye patch said. “He definitely wasn’t among them.”

°°°

The sound of rope wrapping around wood was a sound that always put Lana on edge. It was the sound of death. 

She often thought that assassination was a kinder way to go. Most of the victims had no time to process what was happening until it was too late. But a hanging? That person would have to wait for days knowing how they would die. They had to approach the gallows, stare at the noose, and imagine how long it would be before they stopped breathing. 

She scrunched her face at the thought of dying like that.

Although the mustard cloak idiot and his following deserved every bit of it.

Lana leaned against a tree as she watched the men at the gallows, the Brotherhood readying the nooses for hanging.

She eyed Thoros of Myr, who seemed _nothing_ like a priest of R’hllor. He was a drunk, not nearly as cryptic as those from Asshai, and resembled any other soldier. Lana thought it was either a trick, or that the priestesses of Asshai got it all wrong.

It wasn't until Thoros had looked into the fire and spoke of their god that Lana realized his soul _was_ bound to the flames. And Beric’s wounds reminded Lana of her own – something that can only be healed by magic, or some kind of god. 

The power to bring the dead back was one that Lana hadn’t even seen in Sedona, and yet Thoros of fucking Myr had done it more than a handful of times.

Something irregular was brewing in these lands of Westeros. Something _incredibly_ irregular. 

What truly awaited them, north of the wall?

Lana had not given Thoros the blade yet. Lana wanted a few more moments to relish in the mourning of the dead. She recalled one conversation with a man who was excited to see his cabbage this year. She wondered if he had lived or not. 

She was also truly saddened to know that Ray had been confirmed as among the dead. 

Clegane also had yet to make an appearance.

The Brotherhood seemed to know precisely who he was, and Lana had probed them many times to confirm that he, the Hound, Sandor Clegane, had not been found.

They held steadfast to their opinion.

Once this was all said ad done, Lana would have to go looking for him. 

The human butchers were placed on wooden stumps, and Lana scoffed when she saw fear on their faces, lightly shaking her head. Under what right did they have to be afraid of death, when they appropriated it out like the grim reaper himself? 

Murderers who died as cowards always made Lana wish they faced more than one death. Perhaps Thoros could resurrect them just to kill them again. 

Beric and Thoros turned around, and everyone’s attention was on the road behind them. Thoros said, "Clegane. What the _fuck_ are you doing out here?"

Lana pushed off the tree she was leaning against and stepped around it. Sure enough, Sandor fucking Clegane was there with a bloodied ax, Stranger in the distance. 

His eyes bolted to her movement, and when he realized who she was, his attention was hers. 

He headed towards her, slowly eyeing her up and down. When he approached, she thought he might embrace her, but he stopped. "Are you hurt?" he rasped; his eyes masked with a brutal tenor.

She breathed with relief at seeing that he was safe and mostly uninjured. "No."

"Did they touch you?" he asked slowly, the wrath in his eyes somehow intensifying at the suggestion.

"No," she said softly. 

The nod of his head was so gentle that she barely caught it before he said, "Good. That's the last time you wander off anywhere alone." He walked over to the other men. 

“What the fuck are you doing out here, Clegane?” Thoros asked, and Beric’s gaze rested on Lana.

“Looking for them,” he said, pointing his ax at the three men who quivered in fear. 

“For what reason?” Beric asked.

“They murdered half the village I was helping build. Even killed a friend of mine,” Sandor said. 

“You got friends?” Thoros asked.

“Not anymore,” he said, and Lana looked to the ground with a frown. _Ray_. Clegane’s decision to remain at the village was clearer than ever. He had chosen to let Lana live her life, while he had the opportunity to form a new one for himself. 

And now that had been taken from him.

“Then who is _she_ to you?” Beric asked, nodding to Lana, and she looked up to them.

“None of your fucking business. These men are mine,” he said, taking a step forward.

“They are ours to kill, as they are _our_ men. _We_ must dole out the punishment,” Beric said. 

“Let me chop off _one_ hand.”

Thoros said, “We’re not butchers.”

"You can help hang two, out of respects for your loss,” Beric said.

Clegane growled, threw the ax down and said, “Bunch of nances. There was a time I would have gutted all of you fuckers just to kill these three.”

“You’re getting old, Clegane,” Thoros chided.

“He’s not,” he said, placing a foot on one of the stumps, and pushing it. The one in the mustard cloak had the audacity to plead for his life, but he was pleading to the wrong man. 

Clegane pushed the tree stump from him, and Beric took care of the third.

When the bodies stopped moving, and with Clegane donning a new pair of boots, they all made their way over to the firepit where a member was cooking up some food.

Clegane neared Lana, and she put a hand on him, even his forearm was thick and hard with muscle. He eyed her guardedly, as that was one of the first times she had touched him like that. "I am sorry they killed Ray. He wasn't half bad."

He regarded her before saying, "They're lucky they didn't kill you, or I _would_ have gutted everyone just to torture them.”

Their coupled gaze lingered until Beric interrupted by calling them over.

Lana gave Sandor more space and dropped her hand, turning to face the group. She went to Thoros. “Could I have a word, Thoros?” she asked.

“Will never say no to a pretty lady like yourself asking for alone time,” he said and rose with a laugh, to which the others sniggered.

“This alone time is for the Lord,” she said, pushing past his comment. 

Those words sobered up whatever buzz he had, and he nodded, following her as they stepped away from the group. She stopped underneath a tree to avoid the sunlight that poked through the leaves, leaving bright rays of light on the ground. 

"My lady," he said with a nod when she turned to face him.

"You are a true priest of the Lord of Light?”

"I am."

She unbuckled the belt around her waist to hand over the strap, sheath, and sword to Thoros. He cautiously took it, his eyes darting between her and the blade. “What is this?"

"I was told by a red priestess to bring it to you. It is meant for another to wield it, and apparently, you’re the last person it goes to before the true holder of this weapon grips that hilt.”

"Why you?" he asked, his gaze firm on her. He hadn’t even examined the blade yet.

"The priestess said only a few people can carry it. I have the blood for it, and she said she saw me giving it to you in the flames."

"What kind of blood?"

"I lived in Asshai as a child and left lest I become sterile. Aside from living in Asshai, only a priest or priestess of the Lord can carry it, along with those brought back from the dead, like Beric."

"You are from Asshai?" Thoros asked, seriousness and farce mixing in his eyes.

"I am."

He looked at the blade again, slowly pulling it out, taking in a slow breath once he saw what it was. “This is old. This is _very_ old. It’s got a darkness in it…”

“Something is coming for us all, apparently, in the north. Something ancient. The darkness in that blade will be cast out when the right wielder holds it.”

“This is Lightbringer," he declared, the lines in his forehead deepening as he raised his brows.

“What?” Lana asked, a chill running through her as she watched him examine the blade, staring at the bone. _Just whose bone is that?_ “The Priestess didn’t say anything about that.”

“Why did you give me Lightbringer?” he asked, ignoring her statement.

She shook her head. "I was instructed to get it to you. You are to give it to the person meant to wield it. She also said you are meant to go north as well. I don't know anything else. You know how it is. It's always cryptic.”

He smiled, like a pirate who had been confirmed that the cave they were plundering had gold inside. "Really? Well, you'll be glad to know we already are. How wonderful this all connects."

“You already were?” she asked.

“And now with Lightbringer,” he said, his excitement falling as he resheathed the sword. “Although, Lightbringer would _never_ be brought to these lands unless something dreadfully terrifying awaited us all."

Lana’s mouth grew dry from how heavily she was breathing. “I believe that is the case.”

His expression grew grim. “Then this must reach the right man, or woman. If they do not get it, then the darkness will win. Did the priestess inform you how to activate it?”

“No, she did not.”

He nodded. “The Lord will show us eventually,” he said, then smiled. “Come, let’s eat. Unless Clegane ate it all. He eats like a horse.”

They walked over to the fire, and she sat next to Sandor. Thoros recapped what she had brought, and Beric looked at her with bewilderment. "Well, odd strangers in every shadow, it seems. Where are you going now?"

"To the East, to Dragonstone."

"We can help you get there. We were trying to see if Clegane would come north with us as well."

Lana held her breath and tried to hide every ounce of her displeasure at those words. What if he said yes? What if he went with them and left her all alone again?

"I go where she goes,” Clegane said, throwing a rib into the fire.

"Then we will help you both get to Dragonstone."

°°°

They remained in that location by the river for the remainder of the night, building a few smaller fires throughout. There were about fifty of them traveling together. 

Lana sat at a fire by herself, tucked away from the rest of the group. She needed some time alone to consider her life, her wants, and her responsibilities. After a time, her mind muted as she blankly stared at the fire, the crackling of the flames begging for her to look deeper into them. 

She sharply turned her head when she heard twigs cracking underfoot. 

It was Sandor. 

“Are you really coming with me?” she asked with a smile, her body tensing at his presence, although it wasn’t out of discomfort. 

“For now,” he said, sitting down next to her. “Don’t know how long I’ll stay, but aye, I’ll go with you.”

She nodded, considering those words. “I do suppose that it _is_ rather unfair to make lifelong commitments like that." 

“Except for becoming a kingsguard or marrying a complete stranger,” he said. “Another reason why I am done with your lot. It’s a bunch of stupid politics and damn near permanent decisions. It's not a good way to live.”

“I don’t know if I could marry a stranger,” she said. “I’m not _entirely_ a part of their lot, in that regard. I honestly don't know if I will ever blend in.”

“I don’t think you have a choice about who you marry, or they wouldn’t let you be a lady,” he chided.

She looked at him. “I’d leave the fucking continent and go back to Essos if I had to marry someone that I didn’t want. I don’t need a castle _that_ badly.”

He snickered; his tone sardonic. “What other future awaits you, then? Going to go back to being an assassin?”

“Don’t know. I’ll figure it out if I have to,” she defended. “Come over here just to insult my decisions?” she asked -- half teasing and half serious.

“Came over here because I didn’t want to sit with those cunts for any longer, and it’s cold away from the fire. And you can get over my honesty. I won’t keep my mouth shut when you make poor decisions. Did that for too fucking long.”

She chewed on the inside of her lip as she watched him break a twig that he had. “You think this is a poor decision?”

“I think it’s ironic that you have more understanding of how most things work in this world, and yet you've convinced yourself that you'll get what you want when you’re a lady. Women get traded for marriages, produce her lord husband’s ilk, and then grow old as they watch their husband take on mistresses and make little bastards," he said, tossing the wood into the fire, looking down to her. "Most of those marriages are complete shit, and you're an idiot if you think you'll get anything but that."

She licked her lips, ready for every retort that came to her mind, and yet she couldn't verbalize any of them. 

He was giving genuine advice to her. 

Lana looked back to the fire, taming her enthusiasm for being right. “I am hoping that it will work out. I can’t do anything in the free cities for myself; the only trade I know is one that I most likely die young in. Women don’t have many options, in truth. I’d have to marry _someone_. Might as well choose the option where I get a castle. Plus, it’s not like Dany needs me to marry to secure peace. That’s why she has dragons. I’m hoping that means I get _some_ say in who I marry. Anyway, enough of me, what of you? I see why you stayed in the village. What are you going to do with your life now?"

He pulled a canteen at his side to take a drink, taking his sweet time to reply. “I’ll stay with you until your seat is secured. Then might go sell my sword, and if I make enough, buy some land.”

“I could pay you enough to make sure you could buy some after this is all done, so you can skip the bullshit of selling your sword. Although I wouldn’t mind keeping you around for longer than that. I have a feeling that being a lady is going to be a rather dull affair,” she said.

He darkly chuckled. “Well, it’s going to have to remain dull. As much as I’d like to keep you safe, there’s no fucking way I can watch another man have you. I want you to myself too fucking much to let that happen.”

Lana had to replay those words in her head to make sure she heard that correctly. When she realized that she did, the vibrating warmth in her chest somehow grew stronger. She stared at him, and he languidly looked over, his eyes slightly angry and also full of something deeper. He wasn't bullshitting her anymore.

The reality around her melted away, amazed at how quickly the air changed between them. All she wanted now was to touch him.

It must have been written on her face because it didn't take long for Clegane to take control. 

He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her hard, a hunger so palpable that it stirred her own passion, pressing just as hard into the kiss. 

She put her hands on his unarmored body, taking it in. When she touched his shoulders, she could feel the warmth and strength of him, his body firm with muscle. His arm wrapped around her, and she was cocooned into him, reveling in how it felt to be encompassed by Clegane. She kissed him harder, placing a hand on his neck. His fingers laced into her hair, strengthening his hold. She felt such a high at that moment, all sense of her duty as a lady completely irrelevant as all she wanted was _him_. She breathed deeply through her nose as they kissed each other, the heat of their mouths exchanging.

His hand behind her head dropped, gripping the outside of her thigh, pulling on her body. _Gods_ did that feel amazing. Lana felt her sheer powerlessness in that grip, rousing something deep in her groin. She was _his_ until he said otherwise. She lightly moaned, and a rumble escaped him, pulling on her harder. 

Their movements were growing vivacious, practically begging the other to take it further.

Somewhere in the fog of hormones, she heard someone approaching, laughing with another. Clegane did too, pulling away, his gaze sharp over her head to see who it was. 

The voice was clearly Thoros, and Sandor pulled away more. Lana hated that, immediately missing being so close to him. She wanted so much more of him.

Although Clegane didn’t take his hand off of her as they sat up straight. "Sorry to interrupt,” Thoros said, taking a sip of his flask. “But we got some potential weapons for you, Clegane. Otherwise, we are tossing the rest in the river to cover our tracks."

He pulled at his face with a sigh, letting go of Lana to rise as he said to Thoros, "If you don't got a longsword, I'll take an ax."

"We got both."

"I'll take both."

And like that, Lana was left to sit alone, looking back to the fire. She realized that her want for him seemed to be more than flesh, wishing she could look forward to being close to him later. Even if they committed themselves to each other, what would it amount to? Living all day just to sneak moments of intimacy when they could?

How long could that go on for before either one of them cracked? 

And what in seven hells was she to do about her role as a lady now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU EVERYONE!! I always say this, but I always feel it! Your support for the story is AMAZING! I love all of the comments and kind words that everyone leaves. It's serious motivation for me. I hope you guys liked this chapter!!!! ;D ;D 
> 
> It's going to be so much fun!


	19. Politics, Ranks, and Trebuchets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, some things here are rearranged: The Dornish/Highgarden/Greyjoys and also when Jon Snow arrives. Below I state them clearly (in case you’re a skimmer or don’t get this information when you read):
> 
> DORNISH: Didn’t kill Myrcella and she is alive for a brief stint here, although she does die here. I just thought her death could be better used and explain a bout of madness from Cersei better.
> 
> GREYJOYS: Same thing happens, just in a slightly different order, although it’s mentioned 
> 
> HIGHGARDEN: Olenna never is murdered (this bad bitch has some work to do!) and has a lot of her soldiers at Dragonstone. Highgarden IS mostly vulnerable, but Olenna doesn’t care right now and is in Dragonstone under the impression of taking Cersei down with dragons.
> 
> JON SNOW: Same arc occurs, but he comes after the Dornish and Greyjoys are attacked.
> 
> These changes are explained via narration, but I wanted to clear them up here as it might come across as if I got the timeline wrong. Everything from here will be slightly altered, but it will be more obvious. Most of my changes are there to smooth a lot of season 7/8 errors, and/or change something that I think would have been better.

Sleep seemed impossible for Lana that night. She wanted to sneak over to Clegane, allured at the thought of his rough, crass manner softening just for her. It was a sensation that was nearly addicting to think about.

Although once her eyelids grew heavy, sleep was quick to follow from exhaustion.

The next day they all rode out, and Lana noted that she was the only woman. It didn’t bother her, however. There was nothing about Beric and Thoros that worried her, and she also felt secure in having Sandor nearby.

Their gazes would periodically cross, but it never amounted to much. 

It would be hard to sneak intimacy around these men, it seemed. The previous night of solitude seemed more like a rare occurrence rather than a peek into their future, as Clegane was not one to put his heart on display.

As they rode, Lana scanned the peaceful nature around them, the brotherhood discussing the village that had been slaughtered. Clegane answered most of their questions, but his patience was clearly growing thin. 

Finally, Lana chimed in, "If we live in lands with lords and all that shit, then why was it that the responsibility of brotherhood without banners to clean up the mess? Seems a bit, I don’t know, not correct.” 

Beric was quick to answer. "The lords of these lands used to be reliable in that regard. But with the wars and massacres of noble families, the lands here have grown unstable. You used to hurry to a lord's castle and inform him of what happened. Now, these lands know no lord. And we are not men that will stand by if one of our own commits atrocities.” 

His voice was always like warm, melted butter to Lana’s ears. She could listen to him talk all day, even if it was about grim news.

"That's awful that that can happen,” she said.

"It's why castles have such thick walls. It’s a dangerous world that we live in, even during peacetime,” Beric said with a half-smile.

"So how do you and Clegane know each other?" Thoros asked, changing the subject like a lady at court.

Lana didn’t look his way, responding rather quickly with, "We’ve traveled together.” 

"You paying him?" Thoros asked.

She looked at the drunken priest. "Not right now."

"Who _are_ you? You said you knew a red priestess, and brought me fucking Lightbringer, although you didn’t know it. It’s all very concerning, _and_ interesting,” Thoros said, slowing down his horse to ride next to hers.

"I prefer not to say who I am."

"That's not fair to travel with someone keeping secrets about their identity. It's important for a brotherhood such as ourselves,” Thoros said, an absolute seriousness in his voice that made her uncomfortable.

She didn't know what to do. She was carefree with that information before, but with Dany coming to Westeros, revealing who she was could bite her hard in the ass. She looked to Clegane out of instinct. 

In a very quick succession, his eyes flashed from annoyance to disregard, to protective. "Leave her alone. She isn't a threat to anyone here. She doesn't want to say, just like the Stark girl didn't want to talk. It's personal."

"If we are traveling with a highborn-"

"What, you going to leave her behind?"

“We always need the gold,” Thoros reminded.

“Not from this one,” Clegane warned.

"It's alright," Beric said, easing the tension. "You delivered us a piece from the Lord of Light, so we will grant you your privacy."

"Everyone is so secretive nowadays," Thoros mumbled. "Alright, you don't have to answer, but how did you end up in Asshai, at the very least? You can be vague, if you'd like."

She glared at him, but his eyes appeared curious now. "Let's just say my parents didn't want me, and a Red Priestess named Sedona took me in. It's how they have children there. They adopt them in."

His eyes widened; an air of rare sobriety about him. "Did you say Sedona?"

Lana faced him fully. "You know of her?"

He laughed. "I met her once. Really intense woman."

"She is," Lana said with a toothy grin, looking ahead. The rays that touched the ground grew brighter as the white light of the sun breached through the clouds.

"How long were you in Asshai?" Thoros asked.

"Left just before adolescence,” Lana said, pulling out her canteen to drink from. The water tasted like warm leather, but it quenched her thirst.

"Well, you're interesting. What else happened?"

"Maybe later, Thoros of Myr, when I feel like I can trust you more."

He looked to Clegane. "You trust _him_?"

"I do," she said fervently.

“He’s the least trustworthy one here,” Thoros said. 

“Not to me,” Lana quipped. 

Thoros glanced to Clegane, snickering. “You’ve managed to have one interesting story, Clegane.”

"Like I say," Beric added. "There is a reason Clegane isn't dead yet. Our Lord sees something in him, which means he can't be a total monster."

"Am I the only one that doesn't believe in your fucking fire god?" Clegane asked, his raspy voice sending a pleasant chill down Lana, followed by a sensation of comfort.

She knew that kind of effect. She worried she was starting to develop more than a sexual attraction to him. 

"You just haven't seen the flames yet,” Thoros said. 

"Oh, I have Thoros. I felt them. Don't need to go staring endlessly back into them,” Clegane retorted, glaring at the drunken priest. 

"All I am saying is there is a reason he has followers."

Over the following few weeks, each day was more or less the same – full of little comments, a jive here or there, and some gossip. Time seemed to move faster than usual, and they arrived at the coast earlier than Lana had anticipated. 

She even saw a ship in the distance, with men beached on the shoreline sitting next to a small boat. It surprised Lana, as she didn’t realize they were already waiting for her. It made her wonder if Daenerys was at Dragonstone. _I have been gone for nearly three months, so it would make sense._

The thought that this was going from a goal to reality both excited and terrified her. She honestly thought Clegane had been out of her life, and now he was here. What was Lana supposed to do about that? Did she set a boundary, or allow herself to indulge? She didn’t know anything about those kinds of decisions.

As much as Lana enjoyed her sister, they weren’t that close, and Lana was afraid to tell Daenerys that she was having second thoughts.

Lana harbored her worry as she said gentle goodbyes to the brotherhood, with Clegane merely grunting at them.

Despite being pleased that Lana had delivered the weapon, found Clegane, and felt safe among the Brotherhood, Lana desperately wished that she and Clegane had been allotted some time alone. With the pressure of duties awaiting her, she worried they would get even _less_ of an opportunity.  
She wanted to know if he would be worth her fighting to keep, or if _he_ would even be interested.

They rode under the bright sun and neared the shoreline. The men waiting were alerted and stood.

"The only thing missing this whole time was Arya," Lana said before they were in earshot of the beached men. 

"At least I don't have to deal with the little shit asking all kinds of questions," Clegane said, taking a bite of jerky. 

"You miss her, don't you?" Lana asked.

He chuckled. "Fuck off."

Lana smiled, even a light chuckle coming from her. Gods did she wish they had time alone. He was always different when it was just the two of them. "Onto more serious business. If you _do_ serve for me, even if only for a time, you will get paid monthly in gold for being my guard. And you will get new armor made. I prefer valerian."

He looked at her. "Valerian fucking steel?"

She grinned. "Dragonfire and a priestess from Asshai does the trick. I know of a blacksmith who can rework valerian, and Daenerys wants to hire him to forge new metal for her and her closest guards. You will get new weapons and new armor made in it if I can arrange it.”

He furrowed his brow, a half smile on his face. "A priestess from Asshai? For forging steel?"

"She blesses the metal after the dragon burns it, and then puts her blood into the molten steel."

He laughed with the high pitch giggle he only got when genuinely amused. "Well, serving under you is getting better and better."

"I can't promise anything after that. We really have to see how all this war plays out." 

"As long as I get to kill my brother," he said with a dark tone.

"I can't promise it, but I at least won't stand in your way," she said, knowing it was the only thing he had ever really wanted.  
He didn't say anything in return.

They rode their horses to the sand and Lana swayed more with the horse.

"Who are you?" one of the men with the marooned boat shouted.

"I am going to Dragonstone."

"Name?"

"Lana Storm."

"Who is with you?"

She glanced at Sandor, then back to the men. "My traveling companion, Sandor Clegane," she said. 

"Welcome aboard, my lady," they said. 

Lana raised her brows and nodded. “That was easy."

Clegane snorted. “You really _do_ need a guard. You shouldn’t just trust them so easily unless you know them personally.”

“This is why you are here, Sandor,” she said. 

His eyes fastened to her. She didn’t realize she had actually called him by his first name. And just like that, the air between them was stiff and personal, all at once. She looked ahead, sensing he was not fond of that in front of strangers. 

As they dismounted their horses, she ordered the men to figure out what to do with Stranger. Leaving Stranger behind felt like leaving the only real friend that Clegane has ever had. Plus, it was a well-trained warhorse, and Clegane was her soldier now. In the end, two men remained behind to tend to the horse and wait for someone to come get him. 

Lana boarded the boat, and she didn’t quite know how to react to the help of the men as they extended out their hands. It was even _more_ foreign when they made way for her seating, bowing their heads. 

She had grown up watching others help the masters or the rich, and she knew exactly what these people were really thinking.  
Lana never wanted to be the elite that they hated.

She sat down with Clegane behind her. They didn’t waste any time as they rowed in the ocean against the waves. The initial part was quite tumultuous, but once they got into deeper waters, the waves were easier to ride into. Around the corner of the rocks was a ship with a cream-colored sail, instead of Targaryen. 

"No sigil?" Lana asked. 

"Too obvious, my lady."

"Good, just checking,” she said, rubbing her palms on her dress. Bits of saltwater splashed into the boat whenever they hit a wave at a harsh angle.

They arrived at the ship in less than half an hour, their boat gently swaying back and forth as they gripped the sides to steady the boat. Lana stood up, trying her best to balance herself as she reached out. She hated this part about traveling and was used to just jumping at the riggings. 

A wave nudged their craft, and she gripped the rope, nearly losing her balance, although there was a firm hand already on her hip. 

“You have strings for sealegs,” Clegane chided from behind, his grip the one that was stabilizing her. 

“Never claimed to be a pirate,” she said, starting her climb, reveling in the way his hand felt on her.

She missed that. 

She gripped the rope with white knuckles each time as she climbed. Once over the ledge, she sighed with relief, looking around the men that nodded their head in her direction.

This was her moment. She was the Lady of Dragonstone, while Dany was the queen. 

She nodded to the crew and walked below deck to her quarters with a handmaid guiding her, her steps echoing through the wooden floorboards, the sound of the giant sails flapping in the wind as they changed directions.

The heavy sound of Clegane's body stepping on the wood, even without armor, followed her. It suddenly felt very odd to have him as her guard. 

"You don't have to follow me on here," she said over her shoulder.

"I will until I know these people aren't going to execute us."

"I have to change and get my hair braided. It will be boring to wait outside. Dragonstone isn’t far from here," she said, turning to face him, craning her neck to look up at him.

"That's not how this usually works," he chastised.

She sighed. "Well, despite me trying my best, I don't really know how to be a lady."

"That's clear," he said, snorting.

She let out a small laugh and then looked down, his comment, although a joke, had more truth than humor in it. 

Then he said with a slightly gentler tone, "You might as well get used to it. It's just how things work. There are lords and ladies, and men there to follow. Treat us better than Joffrey treated his men, and no one will bat an eye."

She sighed. "I suppose."

Lana entered her room, and Clegane waited outside with just a sword at his hip and the clothes that he wore from the village. The handmaid help Lana bathe, dress, and do her hair properly to greet Daenerys at Dragonstone. 

When it was all finished, she looked in some polished silver and nearly dropped the mirror. She didn't recognize herself. She stared at her reflection once more. In all her years of pretending to be someone else, this was the first time she dressed to be the highest form of who _she_ could possibly be.

Nearly an hour passed of her just staring at her image, practicing facial expressions that would fit a lady best. She wanted to be soft, and gentle, and yet stern and fierce.

After a while, she placed the polished silver down, sat by the window and looked out at sea.

For a moment, she thought about calling Clegane in. She wanted his comfort, to feel his hands on her again. She wanted his warmth and council. 

Fuck it, she felt calmer with him. Besides, would it be so bad if she called him in? Who would stop her now? She was the lady of the ship. 

And yet, she couldn’t do it. Lana was sailing to go play a genuine role and besmirching herself before arrival felt like mocking the opportunity. 

Time seemed to move terribly slow, but finally, the giant island of Dragonstone appeared in the distance. Once they were close enough, she even saw ships for High Garden and Dorne. 

Allies. 

She took a drink of water, then of the wine.

Actual allies.

The war was here. 

°°°

 

A storm raged outside as Lana sat in the Chamber of the Painted Table inside of Dragonstone. Even though it was the middle of the day, the torches gave more light than the dark gray sky that conjured up a dangerous storm.

Her and Clegane had only been there for three days, with him outfitting himself for new armor, and Lana learning that Daenerys was struggling with how to reclaim the throne. 

Lana ran her hand over the wood, which was smooth with age. So many people must have sat in this very room at one point. So many Targaryens. 

She was in the room in the first place because a meeting had just finished and Lana remained behind, wanting to enjoy the storm and ruminate about what to do. She wanted to help, otherwise, what was the point to her even being here? 

Clegane had eventually made his way inside, finding her staring at the table. 

"Staring at the table won't make plans appear," Clegane finally said.

She smiled, although it barely reached her eyes. "I just don't know why we don't just take the dragons to Cersei and burn her. Everything else is so complicated. They’re worried about _optics._ ”

"If I have learned anything, it's that you don't get to the throne by being worried about being loved. That's for after the war.”

"Discussing tactic plans, Clegane?" Tyrion asked as he entered the room, startling Lana.

"Lord imp," Sandor said with an annoyed drawl.

"It's funny. I switch sides," Tyrion said, pulling up a chair and some wine. "Kill my father, even grow a beard, and somehow a Clegane _still_ manages to be in the war room with me."

"I'm not thrilled about it either," Clegane said.

"Am in the way of a meeting? We just had one," Lana said, wondering if they were coming in to discuss plans for a second time. _Why would I not be invited?_

The thunder roared in the background, the ocean lapping angrily at the shore. 

"I heard that you remained behind and thought that we could have a quick chat while I had your attention," Tyrion said. “We haven’t really gotten to talk since you arrived. We didn’t even talk much in Meereen.”

Lana nodded and poured herself some wine as the room was silent, save for the crackling fire and the sound of water dripping from the balcony. 

She looked at Tyrion. "Let's have that chat, then."

"So, you are the Lady of this castle now?"

Lana held out a hand and shrugged her shoulder. “Would appear that way, at least when Dany leaves."

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, when your sister leaves. I think for a while it didn’t feel like we would ever leave _Essos_. But here we are, and at some point, she will be on the iron throne. I need to straighten out a few things with everyone now that we are all here. You are aware that you have obligations, correct?" he asked.

"I need a lord and children."

He bowed his head slowly with approval. "Precisely. I wanted to see what your expectations of that were."

Lana furrowed her brow, pausing as she brought the wine to her lips, a crack of thunder vibrating the hall. "I don't know how to answer that."

"Well, your sister often mentions that she cannot have children. You are half Targaryen and have the powers of Daenerys, so for all intents and purposes, you _are_ one as well. A marriage alliance may be needed at any point. You would think that offering to marry your sister _would_ be the alliance, but it’s not necessarily true. My first question is – how would you feel if we have to make an alliance, and that lord chooses _you_ over your sister, due to her being unable to give him a lineage?”

Lana took a while to think that over. Her initial reaction was of course she would, and yet, that seemed stuck in her throat. She furrowed her brows as she realized she was not entirely willing.

Tyrion didn’t let it linger. “Alright, we’ll come back to that one. My next question is a little more sensitive, and _this_ is the one that matters – how do you feel about your first born going to the throne to be the next king or queen, and the rest live here? Your sister would mother the future king or queen, and you’d mother the rest."

Lana took in a deep breath and a deep drink of wine, the sweet, sour flavor burning on her tongue. She slowly swallowed it, savoring it. "I think that that’s been implied for a long time. Plus, I don’t have much of an option.”

"You don't, but it's nice to know you're cooperative," Tyrion said with a half-smile. 

"To be honest, I am more interested in who you are planning to marry me to. I am not used to the idea of _marrying_ for politics, and the closer I get to it, the more it terrifies me, let alone any children I may have."

“I don’t often meet women more concerned for their husband than their children.”

She took in a deep breath, looking down to her clean, impressive dress, and then looked back up to Tyrion. “If I were Sansa Stark, and had to look at my child every day and know that they are half Joffrey, I would honestly struggle with that. I’d love them, obviously, but…the idea of making little versions of myself with a monster is just plain unappealing, in every way, shape, and form.”

"That is a fair point,” Tyrion said, tipping his chalice in her direction. “Honestly, a lot of it depends on what happens after the war. Either a bunch of eligible bachelors will be left, or there won't be many. Dickon Tarley is quite handsome, but he is a prisoner right now. So again, post-war, we will see what he does. There are some houses in the north that would make sense. It would help strengthen a new alliance, especially with how stubborn they can be."

 _After the war ._ She still had time to deal with this. There was time to stall.

"How would this work? Would I marry a lord, and he comes here?" she asked, feigning her cooperation. 

"Precisely. Your position here is to support the Targaryen claim, and your children will have that blood in them. This castle needs to have a Targaryen in it."

"What lord would give up his title and lands to come live here?"

Tyrion shrugged. "There's always the chance that we start a new house. With a man that _can_ be a lord, but is mostly there to help forge a new dynasty. I really can't say until the war is done, however. The main point to all of this is that if someone like Euron Greyjoy appears and wants an alliance, then we _may_ need you for that, and your first born will go to our queen."

Lana quickly made a disgusted face, tucking her head into her neck in a grimace. Apparently, Clegane made some kind of face as well.

"What's wrong, Hound? Don't like the idea of taking orders from someone like that?"

"I'm just going to keep my mouth shut," he said, his voice deep and rough, and also soothing to Lana. 

Lana tapped her fingers on the table, interrupting whatever Tyrion was about to say. “I am not marrying a complete asshole like Euron Greyjoy, Lord Tyrion. I’m just not. Plus, why do we need to marry me to _any_ dickhead if we have _three dragons?_ ”

Tyrion looked off to the storm behind Lana, speaking with his hands as he seemed to really consider that. "To be honest, that piece of negotiations is still new to me. I don’t quite know how it all fits in with everything. Politics is fickle, but dragons are not. However, a dragon _queen_ is still politics, so it will have _some_ kind of impact. What that impact is? I don’t know. Either way, I need to know you’ll be willing to help in the only ways I know how to negotiate in.”

Lana took in a deep breath. “I’ll consider proposals, but know that I have standards, Lord Tyrion.”

"Welcome to being a lady. Comes with a lot of privilege, but also sacrifice."

A handmaiden walked in. "The queen would like your counsel, Lord Tyrion."

He smiled at Lana. “We will be speaking again very soon, Lady Lana.”

“I look forward to it. I mean it, as well. I have so much to learn,” she said with an exasperated sigh.

It wasn’t long after Tyrion left that Lana followed, retiring to her room for the night. Her and Clegane parted in silence once again. 

She turned away her dinner as her stomach churned at the notion of marriage to someone like Euron. 

Lana would jump off a cliff before she’d let that happen.

 

°°°

 

Two weeks had passed, and fortunately, no marriage proposals came her way.

Although, she remained entirely busy, spending most her time learning how to be a lady and ruminating about her life.  
Whenever silence fell upon her, she couldn’t seem to turn off her mind. 

Had she made the wrong decision in coming here? Why was Clegane distant from her? Did she trust confiding in anyone about her fears? If so, who would she choose?

Lana stared at the painted table, getting lost in her personal issues even when faced with war decisions. 

Lana glanced over to her sister, who was facing the ocean by the balcony. In truth, Dany had faced more hard personal decisions than Lana had. Despite that, Dany was still able to say let go of Daario for the sake of her crown.

There was no way Dany would support Lana’s decision to abandon her role for her heart.

Especially not now, when allies died like flies.

In the last two weeks, Asha Greyjoy had been taken captive by her uncle Euron, who now owed allegiance to Cersei. _At least I won’t have to marry that fucker. Probably would have gutted him on our wedding night._

Cersei had also stolen the daughters of Ellaria Sand. Fortunately, Ellaria was able to trade Myrcella, having kept the poor girl alive after killing Tristain. 

But Cersei was a cold bitch, and the trade was cut short – Ellaria and her newly rescued daughters were attacked on their way out. The last Lana heard, Ellaria, her daughters, and Asha were all chained up in the dungeons. 

Dragonstone had received that news only two days ago.  
Highgarden remained as the only alliance.

"I could take Drogon and ride him to Cersei. I wouldn't even need all the dragons," Dany said to Lana, the only person in the room with the queen.

"You have to choose, sister. Do you want to be a conqueror, or do you want to brokerage a peace?" Lana asked, echoing their prior discussions that had just taken place. Varys cautioned restraint, Tyrion seemed stuck in the middle, and Olenna wanted to burn it all down. Jorah mostly supported Dany, and Selmy just stood by - as a true queensgaurd. 

"I want my throne without looking like a mad queen," Dany said, turning around, the sun gently touching her hair. 

Lana shook her head with her hands out. "History will be what you make it, your grace. Aegon conquered Westeros, broke up everything that they had, and history remembers him well. I bet you all the wine in our cellars that when Aegon took the seven kingdoms, they did _not_ enjoy his actions."

Dany straightened her shoulders and stared for a long time at Lana before looking down, saying with a soft voice, "I want the people to love me like they did in Essos. I fear they will panic when they see the dragon fire and when the towers fall on innocent homes. All it takes is one wrong move, and I am considered the wrong queen. One move, Lana. I cannot afford that."

"I’m going to be crass, sister, but who gives a shit? Cersei just got everything. She got her daughter-“ 

“Myrcella was poisoned, it seems,” Dany interrupted with a dark tone. 

Lana didn’t blink as she glared at her sister. "What?”

“Ellaria must have given Myrcella a slow acting poison. Varys got word that Myrcella is dead.”

Lana darkly laughed, shaking her head as she jutted her jaw. “Oh great, so now Cersei’ll be _more_ pissed. And, we just lost two alliances, _while having three fucking dragons_ -”

“Language, please,” Dany said, holding up a hand, her voice quivering from either anger or emotion. 

Lana sighed, trying to control herself. This was all terrible. If this were a mission, and she was paid to take the throne, she’d go for the nuclear option now – dragon fire.

“Your grace, please stop worrying about the ruled. Their love is fickle, and even _if_ you give _everything_ , they really don't care. They have their lives to live. That's all they want to do," Lana said with a light laugh, thinking to the villagers she met. 

She continued, “I know. I came upon a village and lived with them for a small time when I was here on my mission a few months ago. They were tired of marching armies more than _anything_ , and they just wanted to get the chance to plant some roots. Literally and metaphorically. Dragons prevent the marching of armies Daenerys. Dragons mean you target the lords, ladies, kings and queens. Not the peasants. And it’s the _peasants_ that you rule, not the other noblemen of these lands.”

"So I _should_ take the throne? With dragons?" Dany asked, an excitement coming to her. Lana could see a glint in her eyes that suggested Dany knew _this_ was the course she wanted.

Lana sighed, darting her gaze between Dany’s eyes. Lana looked down to her clean nails. "I am not an advisor, your grace."

"Perhaps you should be."

Lana smiled and scratching her neck as she said, "I can help you think things out, Daenerys, but I am not a war advisor." 

"Tell me your raw opinion, Lana. If I weren't here, and you were speaking honestly with yourself. What would you do? For our family’s throne?" she asked, her eyes pained. 

"You've gathered a few houses in your name. Take the throne while you have some support. You'll never have it all while not completely conquering. Aegon burned down Harrenhal for his support. Without doing something similar, you have to take what you can,” Lana said, running her hand over the table as she spoke. 

"But what of the north? Jon Snow is coming, and if he doesn’t bend the knee – I can’t have that. I can’t just have Highgarden.”

“That’s not true.”

“Spare me the niceties,” Dany said impatiently.

Lana pursed her lips. Her sister wanted the truth, so she’d give it. “It’s _not_ a nicety. It’s a fact,” Lana said sternly. “Aegon had _no one_ when he conquered. We don’t need anyone either.”

Daenerys stared at Lana, unblinking, before she finally looked down to the table. Dany paced before glancing back to Lana with a nod. "I need to be alone."

"Of course, your grace."

Lana exited the room, walking behind the giant hearth and opening the doors behind it. Clegane immediately followed her as she walked. Lana had no idea what to do. They were here, in Dragonstone, and Dany had three large dragons, an army, and support. 

And yet Cersei was still on the throne. 

Dany _did_ have a point, however. If Jon Snow didn’t bend the knee, then it was a sign that the kingdoms essentially rejected her. 

Then again, what if Jon did bend the knee? That was the entire north…

Lana wondered if she, herself, should just take a dragon and burn it all down, and then the people could hate her, not Dany. Lana didn't give a shit. They'd get over it a few decades from now, anyway. 

As her mind turned at the speed of a potter's wheel, Lana thought to address Clegane. The name Sandor was on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t feel entirely comfortable calling him Sandor again. Especially since there was a distinct withdrawal from him ever since Tyrion had a talk with her. 

Even worse, they hadn’t been intimate since the brotherhood.

She hated that. She also hated that she realized how much comfort he actually gave her. Which meant letting him go would cut deeper than she thought.

"You know Cersei well, Clegane." 

"Wish I didn't,” he said, not missing a beat.

Lana smiled, her serious thoughts interrupted as she had to hold back a laugh. They began their walk through the tall, grand halls of Dragonstone, and Lana couldn’t have appreciated his company more. "Should we just go in and kill her and be done with it? Or is negotiation going to work at all?"

"If it were me, I would take the throne when she least expects it, or in a way she can’t counter. She has always been a mad woman, and with all of her children dead, she grows more extreme. They've got a lot of wildfire in King's Landing from the Mad King. Cersei would not be above using it."

Lana frowned, looking around the beautifully carved stone as they walked down the stairs. "Like blowing it all up?”

"She's the kind of person that if she can't play with something, then nobody can. She's like my brother."

Lana tucked that away, feeling special that she knew something so private about this man. "So, there's no point in going to war with her."

"Probably not."

"Then I don't know what to advise my sister."

He let out a long sigh. "All I'll say is if a giant fucking dragon came burning down the building I was in, I would leave and not look back. If I were a peasant watching that shit, I'd also leave and not look back."

"Then how do we get her out, if not with dragon fire?"

"You take the three flaming dragons and not give a shit what others think," he said. "Tywin Lannister would have done it by now if he had them. And if he were here now, staring your queen in the face, I bet you more gold than I could carry, that he would have surrendered to her dragons. Cersei is just being a bitch."

Lana thought on that as they approached another flight of stairs, this time going up to her wing. Clegane’s temporary, heavy armor clinked as he walked. 

"Tywin?" she asked after thinking over what he said. 

"He liked to win, at all costs. Can't win against three dragons, no matter who you are."

Lana remained silent as she thought about everything. Sandor didn’t add anything else to the conversation. Before she knew it, they arrived at her chambers, the salty air gently wafting in the wind as she faced the ocean.

Like every night, this was where she and Clegane parted. And like every night, it was done in uncomfortable silence.

A handmaid helped Lana out of her dress and into her nightly gown, brushing her hair, and taking away clothes that needed washing. By the time Lana was alone, the sun was nearly at the horizon. 

She sat by the balcony, the ocean breeze in her face. This wouldn't be her room in the long run, as Dany had the largest room that faced the small bit of forest on the island. As much as that appealed to Lana more, she wouldn’t complain if this was all she got. It was a magnificent room with tall ceilings, rugs, four balconies, and a tub for bathing.

She spun wine around in her chalice as she looked to the pastel colors of the sky that painted the country of Westeros, calming her thoughts to give her mind some rest. 

Lana heard the changing of the guards outside and looked to the door, the torches and hearth now brighter than the world outside.  
It meant that Sandor would be relieved. 

Lana grabbed a fur blanket and wrapped it around her as she felt a dramatic drop in temperature with the sun going down. 

It was colder than normal. 

All Lana could think about was sitting in this room with Clegane. She imagined they wouldn’t say much. They’d just sit there, together, enjoying the other’s company and warmth. 

He was also right. He was right more times than wrong, about nearly everything. The thing that she hated the most was that he was right about was their ranks. In the end, her being a lady just didn’t work with a guard, not even a knight. 

Did that really make him lose interest in her so quickly?

It felt like he was already planning to leave her, as if he was settled on the thought and that she was nothing more than a purse of gold to collect from on the monthly.

Was he just here for the armor? To get closer to Gregor?

Lana sighed. Something had changed between them, and the unknown of it was eating at her mind.

With the war growing closer, she honestly needed to let it go. She needed to focus on what she could control.

A small snowflake passed by, and she watched it with wonder, completely pulled from all of her thoughts. 

It was a reminder of the war in the north. 

Winter was here.

 

°°°

 

Sandor sweated from the heat, despite winter officially being here. About three weeks ago they had a snowy night, but it had been warmer since then, and armor always made it feel twenty degrees hotter. 

Either way, he kept his distance from Lana, always watching her from afar. It had been over a month since they arrived, and Sandor felt it was the right decision. 

For a moment, however, he had faltered. But when the King in the north arrived to mine for dragonglass, Clegane was reaffirmed in his choice. 

Sandor couldn’t stop thinking about what the fuck was in the north. What was so important some priestess sent Lana, alone, to Westeros? Why did the Brotherhood abandon their livelihood for what was north? Why did Jon fucking Snow not give two shits about the wars here? 

What had that bastard seen?

Clegane still had yet to get his valerian armor, although the blacksmith had arrived a week ago. Out of everything, getting some fresh, valerian steel would make all of this worth it. 

Sandor stared at the dark sky, waiting for the morning sunrise as he pondered about the wars to come. He always got up early to change stations and preferred to watch the morning sun. It was the only time of peace for himself. 

_For himself._ Ever since Joffrey, he had been infected with the idea of going his own way and becoming his own man. 

It seemed even now, after getting a new line of work, guarding a woman he cared for, he still couldn’t shake the temptation to do what was best for _him_.

After Lana’s talk with Tyrion over a month ago, Sandor fully accepted his time here would not be for forever, which meant why the fuck should he indulge in Lana if he knew it would amount to nothing? 

Plus, not chasing after his brother dampened something in him.  
He could always fuck Lana and get that enjoyment out of her, while he wasted his time waiting to face Gregor. 

But there was a facet to all of this that bothered him – he enjoyed Lana more than just thinking about fucking her. 

He wanted her as _his_ , and he didn’t give two shits about what Tyrion and the others wanted. 

She was dangerous in that way. He had never grown this close to another woman, as he had no interest in that horseshit. It made men behave foolishly; many knights dedicating their entire lives to a woman they’d never bed.

The thought of Lana having a husband that he’d be forced to serve made Sandor realize this was all as stupid as the songs everyone sang. He would not stand by, day in and day out, watching her raise another man's lineage while Clegane grew old. 

He enjoyed his little fun with her, although not as much as he hoped, but he needed focus back on what he wanted before she ever appeared. 

_I'm coming for you brother. Maybe we can die together and be done with it._

The sky over the ocean was finally painted with soft morning colors, giving visibility to their world. It was then that he noticed ships coming into the harbor, with Greyjoy sigils and white flags being waved.

He grinded his teeth, his heart pumping with adrenaline at the sight. 

Were they surrendering? 

He gripped the pommel of his sword at the thought of Euron coming here to brokerage a peace.

If they were _really_ going to marry Lana to Euron fucking Greyjoy, Sandor would kill him. Without question. He snarled his upper lip at the thought of getting to cut that fucker in two before he could lay a hand on her. 

Clegane wasn’t willing to kill Joffrey for the little bird, but he’d sure as fuck kill Euron to spare Lana from that fate.

Clegane watched on and saw that the ships had something giant on them with sails thrown over. 

Then, the white flags were dropped into the ocean, and the sails pulled off. 

He squinted and could have sworn he saw fucking trebuchets on them. Who the fuck put trebuchets on a ship? _Greyjoys. If any mad fuckers could do it, it would be them._

Who would also attack a castle with dragons? There weren’t enough ships for a siege. 

Unless it wasn’t a siege. His next thought was that Cersei was pissed and childless. She did idiotic things when she was angry. Last time she didn’t get her way, she blew up the sept and enraged the populace, but the mad bitch still didn’t care. 

She never cared.

What if this was nothing more than anger?

“Are those trebuchets?” a soldier from Highgarden asked, placing a hand on the stone rails as he squinted. 

“Fucking looks like it,” Clegane said, his eyes wide and ready for a fight.

“Why? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Then, one of the trebuchets launched, a rock flying in the air in slow motion until it smacked into the castle, sending a slight tremble throughout the walls. It landed higher than where he stood, which meant this entire area was in danger. “It’s not supposed to. Get everyone away from the ocean side!”

Sandor took off. Terror gripped the castle as many panicked and ran. Clegane hurried up the stairs, skipping steps, which was a fucking feat with the chainmail and plated armor.

He didn’t have the luxury to waste time. 

Lana's room faced the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Cersei is definitely pissed off! Lol. She literally just sent some Greyjoy ships to slap Dany in the face. I always saw Cersei as the "Mad Queen" over Dany, and wanted to give Cersei a few displays of madness here. 
> 
> What do you guys think? How is the pacing so far? What's something you are dying to see/can't wait for me to get to? Don't forget, every time Sandor pulls away, he takes two steps closer afterward ;D
> 
> And also thank you so much for the kind words. I really have the best commenters. You guys say the nicest things and just really boost my spirit for writing this story! I love all of you so much!


	20. Duties and Desires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for taking so long to update. Life got SUPER busy and I'll be honest - I lost a bit of steam for this story. However, your wonderful, amazing comments always made me work on it, piece by piece. I think I just cranked out too much of this at once and needed a small break! So thanks to those that motivated me! Hopefully you enjoy :D

Clegane hastened, running through the halls as he overheard calls to wake the dragons. 

Whoever was attacking Dragonstone, Clegane had no doubt their only intention was to send a message rather than to win in anything. Anyone attacking a castle with dragons knew that.

It wasn't the attackers he was worried about. He was concerned that it might reach Lana.

Adrenaline numbed his sore body, racing up the stairs and skipping two with each step. Then the vibration of something large slamming into the castle shook him. He growled as he placed a steadying hand on the wall. If they fucking hit her room...

When he rounded the corner, her hall was still intact, and he wasted no time as he rammed his shoulder into her door, bursting it open with the wood smacking against the wall, nearly breaking off the hinges. "Let's go!" he shouted, entering the room. The ocean was in view through her windows. 

They needed to get away from the seaside. 

_Where are the fucking dragons?_

Lana’s clean, prim face was full of panic, although she didn't question him and immediately abandoned her bed, wearing nothing but her lady's sleeping gown, her pale blonde hair loose. She nearly went to grab some things as she passed them, but he shouted at her, "NOW!"

She ran towards him. He grabbed her by the back of the neck and guided her through the hall.

"The fuck is going on?" she asked.

"Trebuchets. If I had to guess, Cersei is pissed, and sacrificed those men to attack your sister.”

They passed a handmaiden. "Fetch her proper fucking robes," Clegane commanded, to which the woman nodded her head and hurried, her hair falling out as she ran. 

As if on cue, the sound of rock being absolutely demolished shook them so hard that Lana had to grab him for balance. He turned around, sweat beading down every part of his body.

It went clean through Lana’s room. 

He looked down to her and her eyes were wide, knowing what she just narrowly missed. No doubt the handmaiden was among the fresh ruble, dust filling the air as pieces of drapery were strewn about.

"Let's go. We need to get interior," Clegane said, and they continued to move. Luckily, Lana was a woman who had been around chaos and didn't seem besmirched by fear. Made his job a whole lot fucking easier.

They came upon an area that was pure rubble, and Lana, without complaint, walked through, wincing on the sharp rocks. 

Sandor reached under her, draping her legs over his arm and grabbed her waist with his other, carrying her through. 

It was absurd, but he was more energized than before. The area smelled of rock, dust, and the oils on her skin. A solider like Sandor lived for this kind of adrenaline rush. He lived for the innocents that he could protect, for the pride in knowing he was more skilled than his enemies.

It was always a wasted desire, as so many people in this world were ungrateful cunts that didn’t deserve an ounce of his ability.

But _she_ did, and he’d see her through this.

They reached a clean area and he put her down, although he still placed a protective hand on the back of her neck and guided her. His mind faded in and out of wanting to glance down at her, the nightdress leaving her body completely free and exposed underneath, her breasts unrestrained, and yet his drive to get her to a safety triumphed over all.

They finally reached the gardens, and he stopped there. 

The sound of one of the dragons screeching was heard overhead. "Fucking finally, they get those flaming fuckers out."

°°°

Lana breathed heavily, glancing around. She had almost died. 

She had almost _died_. 

If Cersei really attacked them, then that bitch almost killed Lana.

So many questions ran through her mind, along with double the amount of concern, but all she saw as she looked up was the stubbled face of Sandor Clegane, sweat beading down his face. His quick thinking and action saved her life. 

"How did you know? I should have died just now,” Lana said.

"Saw the ships. I grew up with Lannisters. I don't trust any of those cunts to think logically or with caution. Except for Tyrion, unless there is a whore around."

She wanted to kiss him for what he did, but he was too tall to make it work without it looking ridiculous. 

"Well, I feel I owe you something. What does a lady do when someone saves her?"

He scoffed. "Make them a knight, but if you knight me, I'll slap you."

She laughed and felt her breasts gently bounce, then her cheeks warmed, and she placed her arms over them. "I am so - this is not how a lady is supposed to look!" she exclaimed, aware at how wrong this was.

It was amazing to Lana how quickly she got used to behaving in a particular manner. 

Clegane darkly said, "Noticed that."

She half-smiled, her mouth agape, and Clegane's eyes dropped to look her over, the stoic face of a warrior breaking, just ever so, to let out his desire. 

Men came around the corner, and Clegane's hand was immediately on the back of her neck, pulling her into the cold metal of his armor.

"There you are!" Tyrion cried out, looking her over. "You're barely clothed."

"And barely alive. We had no time to waste," Lana said, eyeing the group. Varys was among them.

A servant with fabric in their arms came near, holding the cloth out. Clegane took a step out, grabbed it, then turned his back to the crowd and helped it over Lana’s shoulders. She noticed his eyes fall to her breasts, and yet he refrained from any comment. 

It was one of the things she liked most about him. He was an ass, and even though he hated the order of men who took oaths, he knew when to behave like a true knight.

"What happened?" Lana asked. 

"A small part of Euron's fleet decided to hurl giant boulders at us,” Tyrion said.

"Why is the castle built within distance of something like that?" Lana asked.

"My guess?" Varys remarked. "The same reason the fleet is no longer attacking us. The dragons set fire to them, and I assume when Dragonstone was built, no one dared to think it would be attacked, as they had dragons then too."

"Why'd they do it all, then? They know Dany is here."

"We are scourging the seas to see if anyone surviving will be able to answer, " Tryion chimed in. "They sent a small number compared to what they have. It was just a punch to the face. They meant to do damage, to unnerve. It wasn't meant to deal real harm."

"But it could have," Clegane snapped, his hand still on the back of her neck. "Boulder went right through her room. If you want her as a damned lady of this place, might want to start treating her like one."

Varys showed a rare face of defeat. "That was a bad judgement. We are, of course, happy you are safe, Lady Lana."

"Where is my sister?" Lana asked.

"Probably returning at some point, once she burns their ships down."

"We should hold a meeting, discuss what happened, and what we will do in response,” Lana said, trying to sound like a lady. That’s what they would do, right?

"We need to see if your clothes are elsewhere as well," Tyrion said. 

She nodded, and with that, she parted to find some real clothes to wear.

°°°

A few casualties were had, including the maid that went back to Lana's room. No one of importance was hurt, although it unnerved Lana how close she was to being one of them. 

They had also learned the reasoning for the attack.

The Sand Snakes poisoned Myrcella with a slow-acting reagent, and after a few weeks with her mother, Myrcella had died at dinner. 

So, Cersei sent a fleet to just lob rocks at them for as long as they could. It was just as Tyrion said.  
"Did anyone tell the Dornish to poison the Lannister girl?" Dany asked. They were all seated in the Chamber of the Painted Table, huddled in layers of clothes as a terribly cold child blew in from the ocean. Servants stood by the fire to keep it rumbling hot.

"Not that we know of,” Varys said.

"That was a poor decision by the Sand Snakes. Their tactics were as bad as Cersei’s. Killing an innocent girl would never have solved anything," Tyrion said, his body rigid with disproval.

"Are you upset that one of our enemies died?" Jorah asked, referencing Myrcella.

"Myrcella was a good girl. Fuck politics, she was innocent. She was one of the few things my sister ever got right,” Tyrion said, not withholding his emotions this time.

Dany took a step forward, head held high as she stood at the end of the table. "I need to take King's Landing while Dorne is open like this. Otherwise, they could go to Cersei. She cannot get away with lobbing stones at my family's castle while I have three dragons."

"This could be exactly what she wants. She could use it to make you look reactionary," Varys warned.

Lana stepped in. "With all due respect, Lord Varys, war tends to be reactionary. What is the point of being a great house if you let another lob giant stones at you?"

"The girl is right," Olenna said. "Cersei attacked a dragon. A dragon that does not bite, nor breathes fire, is nothing more than a garden lizard."

"And how would we do it? Just burn down the Red Keep? Hope that Cersei is sleeping soundly somewhere and the rubble takes her with it?” Varys asked.

"Nearly worked for me," Lana quipped, clenching her fist.

"There are backways into the city," Tyrion said. "We can send unsullied to find Cersei. We might not even need dragon fire." 

"What if Cersei gets word of it? There are still caches of wildfire all over from our father. Who is to say she won't burn it to the ground?" Lana asked, thinking to what Clegane said. Everyone’s eyes were on her at that statement, even Jon Snow’s, who remained silent.

"She does have a point. With her children dead," Tyrion said, some pain in his eyes. "She won't care what happens to King's Landing. She won't care what happens to this world." He laughed. "I honestly never thought about it, but there is a chance that even if we take it through good old-fashioned warfare, she might just blow it all up."

"Jon Snow, you are quiet. What do you think?" Dany asked. 

He repositioned himself, the sound of his leathers filling in the awkward silence as their eyes were now on him. "I don't think I have a good opinion on any of this, your grace."

"And why not? You took up the title of king. This should be an easy decision for a king."

He looked around before saying, "With all due respect, if it's so easy, then why haven't you made the decision?"

Dany was flustered. "Because how I take King's Landing will impact everything."

Snow continued, "I am still of the belief that the war over the iron throne is wasting our time, so I have a hard time caring about it."

Lady Olenna stood. "Well, I have said my part. Your grace, I think Cersei deserves a long, painful death. I say go in with your men, take her, and have all three dragons around just in case you have to burn it down to smoke her out."

Varys chimed in once more. "Yes, but Lady Olenna, you grievously lost your family. Your opinion, is, of course, marred by judgment focused on revenge.”

"You're right, I did lose my family. And so, so many more will lose theirs if we try to war with giant armies," she said, sighing, and leaning over the table to look at everyone. "I have been around these people longer than any of you. The common people will follow whoever is going to feed them, but who also scares them. Say you want about Tywin Lannister and how cruel he could be with the Red Wedding, but he knew how to get it done. Killing Cersei is far from a Red Wedding, so stop trying to make it seem like it is." 

Lana raised her chalice of water. "I concur. I came here to live in peace in this castle. Not sit and wonder how to most peacefully take Cersei off the throne."

"All I caution," Varys said. "Is that extreme actions have extreme consequences."

"Like plotting to have me killed when I was with Drogo?" Dany asked, her eyes and voice filled with ice.

Like the politician he was, Varys gave a good answer. "Precisely, your grace. If that had worked, we'd all be listening to Cersei right now."

"So, then what do you suggest, Lord Varys?" Lana asked, tired of this. "Let's hear your plan instead of squabble about in conversation."

"To gather more support. Squeeze Cersei slowly, not to chop her head off. The more support Daenerys has, the more likely that when she sits the throne, she _stays_ on the Iron Throne."

"Once she sits on it, she won't go anywhere," Jorah defended.

"And how can you guarantee that?" Varys asked.

"She has three dragons, as you seem to keep forgetting."

"Tywin liked to sing the Reins of Castamere when trying to get someone to make a decision. It's not much different."

"I like you, Lord Varys," Tyrion said with an apologetic tone. "But referencing my father only strengthens Dany's claim to use her dragons. My father was ruthless, and yet, the people still followed him."

"I didn't realize we were all so fond of a man who had my nieces and nephews killed, then let their killer rape their mother with their blood on her hands," Dany scolded.

"I think, my queen," Jorah said, cooling the fire in her. "The point is Tywin was ruthless, brutal, and yet effective. And here we are, discussing him even in his death, mostly with respect-"

"With _respect?_ " Dany asked, and Lana felt sorry for her sister. 

"He ended a war, your grace. I don't think we should kill babes, but I also think that's where you are different. _You_ wouldn't do those thing, but you _should_ be able to kill others if needed. Tywin was too brutal to be loved, but he was feared."

Lady Olenna said, still standing, "And you can be both, my dear. But you have to be willing to be feared by the people that you also want to love you. It's the first trick in parenting."

Dany faintly smiled. "I appreciate your caution, Lord Varys, and I will remember it. But I need to be a dragon now. I want to work towards a plan to go take King's Landing, with everything that we have."

"As you command, your grace."

Everyone in the room began to rise. 

"Daenerys," Jon said, interrupting the decisive feeling of the room. "I need to discuss the war with the dead as well. I would prefer everyone’s counsel with it as well."

"Make it quick,” Dany said with a sigh.

"The dead are coming. Iron Throne, or even a golden throne, it won't matter. If the North fails to stop the dead, then everyone will be dead come winter. And the North cannot stop the dead with the men that we have."

"Even after the dragonglass?" Dany asked, clearly impatient.

"It's like being one man facing a hundred. It is futile, but you're still going to sharpen your blade beforehand,” Snow said. There was something about him that Lana liked, and yet also didn’t like. She reminded herself that this was Arya’s half-brother. 

Lana smiled. They definitely seemed to share a sense of determination and self-assurance.

"Pardon, my lad," Lady Olenna said. "But what dead? I haven't seen anything."

Jon laughed. "They are north of the wall."

"So, what's the problem? I thought the wall was there for a reason."

All eyes moved to Jon Snow, many seemingly persuaded by Olenna’s statement. "My brother Bran has seen them finding their way over."

"Assuming I know what that means why did we even bother building a wall? How can it even be taken down?" Olenna asked. 

"These are questions for the Citadel, but none of them will take us seriously."

"I agree with Olenna," Tyrion said, tapping his hand on the table as if to wrap this up. His tone clearly showed that he took none of this seriously. "We need evidence, or it's just more theories. We can only fight the war that is in front of us and real."

“Maybe you can fetch one of these creatures, Jon Snow, and bring them here,” Olenna said in jest.

Jon’s face sobered as he slowly looked around the room, furrowing his brow as he spoke to the lady of flowers. “Would it make a difference?”

Dany chimed in, to which Jon’s eyes moved to her. “If you presented me with a creature of the dead and told me they could break through the wall, it very well might make a difference. But since that cannot be done, it is still a moot point.”

Jon snow bit his bottom lip. "So, if I gave you a wight, you would fly north, bring your armies, and help me fight them?"

Dany sighed, looking at the table before glancing back to him. “If you brought a wight, and it was real, and we had evidence they would breach the wall, no matter what...then I would take King's Landing, and the first act that I would do is gather every lord that doesn't want their castle burned, and I would demand the Citadel to come and see it too. _Then_ we would fly north and help you fight this enemy."

Jon Snow sighed, like he had received a death sentence. "Looks like I have to secure one, then.”

Dany tutted. “Surely, you don’t mean that?”

"I have to go north and get one. We are going to die, your grace. The North needs every man. We need the Citadel. We need your dragonfire. And I understand why no one is listening to me. It is because no one has seen it. So, I need to find a way to allow people to see it."

“You know, if these creatures truly _are_ real, then this could be used,” Tyrion said, waving a finger. “What better thing to have everyone unite around, for our queen, other than the fight for the survival of Westeros? I say we call on all of great lords and the citadel and bring the wight to King’s Landing. We show them what there is to rally behind. If we can give everyone in this kingdom a reason to head north and help fight, that will give Jon Snow the men he needs, and it will give our queen a reason to be followed with little allies.”

“Except for the north,” she said as she glared at Jon. “He still has yet to kneel, and I am supposed to trust that when he returns, he won’t rally everyone behind him instead?”

Jon Snow didn’t budge. 

“We can worry about that later,” Tyrion said, nearly rolling his eyes as he looked to Dany before glancing back to Snow. “Jon, how feasible is this feat? To go north and secure a potential walking dead person?”

Jon laughed, his smile bright and clean, but his mood was sour. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it. I am used to running away from them, not bloody catching them and carrying them south.”

“How long would you need?” Dany asked tersely, clearly still not in favor of Snow.

“A month, if I leave now. Maybe two.”

“Then we will wait for three months before attacking King’s Landing, at least if we can afford to wait that long. Don’t forget, that if you plan to betray me, I will not lend you a single soldier, let alone any dragons.”

Jon straightened his back, a crook of a smile on his face. “Trust me, you want the throne more than I ever could.”

The conversation concluded shortly after the debate. Jon Snow was going North beyond the wall, and would come back with the enemy that was fueled by dark magic. Surprisingly, Jorah volunteered his aid and to represent the queen.

Lana didn't know how to process any of it, in truth. She had grown up hearing about the _’Night’_. It always sounded like something to be avoided at all costs. 

_I wonder where Thoros is, and if he still has Lightbringer._ Lana had a feeling, based on all the stories Sedona had told her, that no matter the size of the army, it came down to Lightbringer.

They had all agreed to withhold the taking of King's Landing, waiting until they had a Wight to present, so Dany could campaign on the fight for the world and not just the throne. Tyrion said he would go and find a way to talk to Jamie in an attempt to coax Cersei out into the open. 

When Lana got back to her new room, which overlooked the gardens, she changed into her nightdress, with furs to go over it as she sat down with a glass of wine while her handmaid added logs to the fire.

Lana ruminated over everything that had been discussed. They were getting closer to death or victory now. Even then, she mostly thought of her and Sandor. Lana realized his time by her side was growing nearer too. 

They both knew he couldn’t be here when she was married off, which grew ever closer now.

As Lana’s handmaiden began to part for the evening, Lana said, "Tell Sandor to come in."

The woman nodded, opened the door, and in walked Clegane. 

Sandor walked in, still clad in his new armor, although it wasn't the Valerian, which he would soon have. Ser Jorah and Ser Barriston were getting their own as well, along with metal pieces to adorn Dany and Lana in. 

"Have some wine," she said, motioning to the flagon. The breeze was cold tonight, winter more apparent than ever. 

An ominous sign, considering the dark words that Jon Snow brought. 

"Won't say no to that," Clegane said, taking a seat, the sound of his giant armor settling in his chair flashing all kinds of memories in her mind from their journeys.

She was about to ask him a question and wondered if she should use his first name. He was very responsive to it, and so far, he hadn't told her _not_ to. She just never heard anyone else use it. She still didn’t feel quite right using just his first name, and yet she didn’t like calling him _Clegane_. She settled on both. "What do you want, Sandor Clegane? I know you want more than to grow old as a guard."

He drank his wine, leaned back and said, "You know I don't talk about this shit."

"If this war with the white walkers is real, I don't want you stuck here when you want to be elsewhere."

"So, I save your life, and now you want me gone?"

"No, I don't, actually. I just...I won't make it long. Did a lot of thinking. Coming close to death does that to you, no matter how many times it happens. It made me realize that you almost got away from all of this, and _stayed_ away, in that village with Ray. You chose to stay for a reason. I want to make sure that when you desire to return to that, you can, versus just stay here with me on this island.”

He was silent, and his face wasn't angry. He was really considering her words. 

"Might go serve the brotherhood," he finally said with a calm tone.

"What?" she asked, doing poorly to hide her displeasure.

"You asked what I wanted," he chided, then drank more wine.

"As in, _soon?_ They'd be far north by now."

He nodded, not looking at her. "Might go with the northern bastard to help with whatever is north of the wall. Bet the Brotherhood is heading for whatever is up there. Thoros always yammered on about it. Might stay with them when we return."

Her heart sank. "What? Are you serious?"

He looked her dead in the eye. “You are right. I don't want to serve for forever. It's in my nature to protect, but my years of service are behind me. Aye, I stayed in that village for a reason. I wanted to be my own man. And now, I want to help with whatever the fuck is coming. This is bigger than all of us. I don’t want to sit around like a twat, drinking wine next to a fire, while other men die for this world."

"What about me?"

"You have a sister with three dragons,” he said and looked away.

"What if I don't want you to go away? At least not yet."

"You asked what I wanted," he scolded, his eyes hard and cold, but the longer their eyes connected, the more he relented in his fervor. For a few, long moments, they just stared, and she started to see a semblance of concern, and even care, in his eyes. As much as he could give, anyway. Then he looked ahead once more and said, "I can't stay here forever. I got you safely here, and now it's time for me to go. The sooner I leave, the better for both of us."

 _Well this blew up in my face._ Although Lana knew it was the right thing. His time was done being a glorified bodyguard. 

And yet, hearing him confirm that decision really brought her spirits down. Without him, this would become a very dull life. She relied on him to keep things normal, and she looked forward to being near him every day, always a buzz of nerves rife in her belly. She had expected him to take some time to consider this decision, not make a sweeping one this quickly.

Why couldn't he be like Jorah and stay around no matter what?

But as soon as she wondered that, she knew she didn’t want that. It’s what Lana liked about Sandor. He was his own man, and he'd do what he wanted. 

She looked to his hand that lied on the table, large and threatening, like that of a hardy man. She breathed quicker, her nerves on edge as she got the idea. 

Jon Snow was leaving in the morning. She might as well try for it.

Lana placed her hand on his, and it was warm and robust. He glared at her while she stared at the hand that was in hers, and she could see in her peripheral that his glare was a warning. And yet, he didn't remove his hand. 

She eventually looked up, meeting his brown eyes, and she could nearly hear his voice in her head asking _'what the fuck are you doing?'_

Her gaze was just as unwavering. 

"If you must go, I won't stop you," she said, trying her best to relay her emotions in her eyes.

His chest rose and fell as he took in a long draw of air, his gaze unrelenting. She looked back down to his hand. It was well-used with scars and clearly strong. There was something to a man's hands that really struck Lana, and she imagined that it was the same thing men had for the softness of a woman's skin or the smell of her hair. 

Clegane's arms and hands had always drawn her in, wondering what it would be like to be encased in them, or held down. 

She sighed and went to pull away, feeling her carnal need for that kind of affection starting to take over her mind. 

As she pulled, his hand clasped hers, and her heart hammered in her chest almost instantly. His grip was firm, and yet she could tell that he was barely holding on. She looked up but saw he was looking at her hand now. They were even rougher on his palm side. 

She imagined that he wanted to grab her, lift her skirts, and take her right then and there on the table. By the look in his eye, he was indeed struggling to control himself. 

She breathed deeper, as she desperately wanted that.

His grip tightened, just ever so, and it was enough to send a pleasant chill slithering through her veins _Gods_ did she want him to grip her with those hands, to hold her still while he filled her with every inch of him.

The thought of Clegane leaving Lana along in these giant halls with maids, servants, and soldiers just felt so wrong. 

She couldn't let him leave without being close to him. She had to give him a reason to come back.

She rose from her seat and walked around the table, and he let go of her hand, his breathing growing heavier. He had that look in his eye when he was about to fuck someone up, but this was laced with desire, not murder.

As soon as she was within his reach, he sat up from his slouch, grabbed her, and pulled her into his lap. She gave in, letting him control her with a grip that locked her to him. She neared his face, pressing her lips on his, the light scruff scratching her chin and cheeks, her nose pressed into his skin as they kissed. His breath was hot. His hands pressed so hard into her skin that he was nearly pulling at it when he glided them over her. 

He reached under her skirt, his rough hand grazing her bare thigh as it ran up her outer leg. She moaned into the kiss, and he growled in return, gripping the outside of her thigh hard. He was feeling her all over, kissing her, keeping her in his arms all to himself. She wasn’t leaving his grip until he let her go, and that power exchange revved something deep and primal in Lana.

She placed a hand in his hair, gripping it, and his hand rose higher, cupping her ass, sliding his hand over her leg so it was on top of her thigh. 

Their breathing grew more intense, along with their touches, which pulled against one another. Their kiss intensified, their tongues now brushing against one another and the other's lips. She wanted him. She wanted him all over her, and inside of her. She wanted to watch him fuck her and see that pleasure on his face. 

Eventually she was able to reposition herself, his hold on her giving way when he realized what she was doing. She placed a leg on either side of him, straddling him. He groaned hard into her mouth, both of his hands running up her thighs, gripping her ass once more. 

Their motions were reckless now, crossing from touching and kissing, to exploring what came next.

One of his hands slid down her rear and onto the back of her thigh, regripping to the inside of her thigh. He nearly grazed the area that she desperately wanted him to touch. She leaned into his touch, begging him to touch her further. 

Everything changed in him. She thought he had growled before, but this time the sound that escaped him was more guttural as he stroked her between her thighs, feeling the mess that he created. His other hand gripped the back of her neck as he pulled her tight into a kiss while he reached a finger inside of her. She clenched tight, never having felt another man inside of her, even in that regard

She grinned into the kiss and relaxed her muscles, wanting more of him. “Just fuck me already,” she said into the kiss.

He chuckled darkly, and just as he pulled his finger out of her to grip her hips and pick her up, a knock came to the door. _Fuck_. 

They paused, parted their kiss and panted, noses nearly touching the other. She looked Sandor Clegane in the eyes, which were full of an unleashed hunger and emotion. Then the knock came again, and he rolled his eyes. 

“It is Lord Varys, my lady. Your sister has sent me to request you, in lieu of the Maester,” the voice said through the door. Sure enough, it sounded just like him.

Clegane rose from his seat, Lana still in his arms, and he placed her down with a gentleness that she had been desperate to see him from him. He couldn't leave, not when she just finally got a glimpse at what she wanted.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "One moment," she said, dropping her hand to straighten her robes. Clegane finished his cup of wine and slammed it on the table. 

"Might as well take the rest and enjoy it,” Lana said.

"Won't enjoy shit except for sore balls," he said severely. He looked her over, his eyes angry and full of hunger, his lip lightly sneering as he looked away.

She felt the same way. "It’s not _my_ choice. Trust me, I'd rather you fuck me right now." 

Clegane huffed. "Don't say that shit. It just makes this worse," he said with a groan and went for the door, opening it, to which the Varys jumped and said with curious eyes, "Well, am I interrupting something?”

"Get the fuck out of my way," Clegane threatened, and like that, he was gone. 

"Well, Lady Lana," Varys said. “I take it you know that harboring soldiers in your quarters, at this hour, does not give the best impression?”

Lana had no reply to that, knowing it didn’t matter what she said. 

“Some advice?” Varys asked. “Your hair is tossed, and yet your bed is made. Either ruffle the bed to make it appear you woke up or straighten your hair, otherwise we can only assume it was from the grumpy soldier in here just moments ago. Although, I supposed an unruffled bed is a good thing. Most lords in these lands won’t want to marry the dragon that was soiled by the hound.”

This time, Lana huffed herself, her nerves frayed, but no retort came. She liked the sound of the hound soiling the dragon, her mind unable to let go of him.

In a way, he had soiled her. If she had never met Clegane, she wouldn't be questioning anything right now. 

°°°

The next morning, Lana got word that more men had volunteered to join Jon Snow, and that they were leaving the following day. Of course, the one man she cared about had volunteered as well. After Lana dressed, she opened her door and saw Clegane wasn’t there. 

His absence meant more than anything, hitting her square in the chest that he was no longer in her services.

She spent the better half of her morning searching for him, finding him in the halls. 

"You really _are_ going north, beyond the wall. With Snow and the others,” she said as she approached him, her voice lightly quivering.

"Aye," he said with a curt nod, not bothering to stop as he continued to walk through the halls.

She stood in front of him and he stopped, not sure what took over her. "You are supposed to stay here and protect me," she said, not sore that she lost him as a guard, but it was the first excuse she came up with.

His tone was back to the usual condescending one. "Someone will always be around to protect you," he said with little care. 

"I want _you_ to protect me," she said, realizing that even with him leaving, she still couldn't find the gall to say the words.

Those words, however, were enough for now and seemed to mean something to him, and before he looked away, she caught a glimpse of raw emotion in those guarded eyes. 

She took a step closer, pressing that matter further. "I need you _here_. You saved me from the attack. Did you forget that already? I’d be dead without you. It could happen again."

"That was a freak occurrence. You know I can’t stay, Lana,” he said, not looking at her, gently pushing her aside.

He was seemingly doing everything he could to avoid her, but she grabbed his arm. His body went rigid, and the danger of Sandor Clegane was apparent, but the way his muscles relaxed when he looked down to her told her everything she needed to know. He wanted to leave, and she was making this difficult. Let alone how close they had gotten the previous night. "What if you don't come back?" she asked, her voice quiet. 

"Then you'll find a husband and be the Lady of Dragonstone. It's what's going to happen anyway. And I don't want to be around for that shit. I am not living my fucking life leaving a room when the spider knocks. If I want to fuck a woman, then I am going to fuck her. Not with you, though. And we can’t change that," he said, his brown eyes hard and clearly trying to hold back whatever bubbled underneath.

"If I am a true lady, then I'll do whatever I want to do,” she said, letting go of him.

He scoffed. He gave her one last look that had more care than hate in it, blinking slowly. "Not when it comes to marriage and alliances. It’s the whole damned point to you being here."

He turned around before she could say anything. She lost the battle with him. She watched him walk away, terrified of what was going to happen to him, to Westeros, to everything. 

It wasn't until she saw the ships sail away that she felt the full force of what that meant. Sandor was no longer in the castle, and the further that ship sailed, the further away he was. If she ever saw him again, it would be weeks, if not months. 

She walked out in the gardens as her chest felt numb, noticing a few flakes of snow as she walked among the pines and cranberry bushes. 

…

The group of grizzled, experienced men walked the lands that lied north of the wall, the air so cold it turned one's mouth dry. They all wore thick layers of wildling clothes, topped with fur to keep the wind out and catch the snow. All Clegane could see was nothing but cold, white, and rocky, snow-capped mountains. He couldn't believe people actually fucking lived up here.

Clegane was walking ahead, trying to get away from Tormund after their conversation, but the crazy fucker kept following him. 

"So how did you and Brienne meet?" the ginger asked. He was a fervent man. “I want to know everything about my beauty before I return, so I may impress her with tales of her might.”

"Sure, that'll fucking work," Clegane said. 

Tormund sniggered. "What is life without a woman to return to? It makes all this miserable shit worth it."

"You're more like the Westerosi than you admit."

"Do you have a lady, Clegane?" Tormund asked.

"When do you shut up?" Clegane retorted, looking at him. Tormund’s nose was red, his beard and hair speckled with snow, and his lips cracked.

"We have all the time in the world to talk. And this might be one of our last conversations,” Tormund said with hard eyes.

Thoros turned around, with his stupid top knot, and said, "He _has_ a woman. A blonde, like yours."

"He does?" Tormund asked with wide eyes. 

"Aye. Lana-"

"Shut the fuck up," Clegane warned.

"Secret is safe with me, Clegane," Tormund said. "Go on, profess it. Probably all going to die anyway, so what does it matter?"

"His lady is Lana, sister to the dragon queen,” Thoros said.

Tormund nodded with approval, a gust of frigid air prompting them all to tuck their clothes closer to their body. "Shooting, high, eh, Clegane? Guess I am too, in a different way, with my beautiful giant," Tormund said.

Clegane couldn’t tell if he should smack Tormund in the face or not. Maybe that was the only way to silence the ginger. "She will never be with the likes of me. Which is why I am out here, in these barren ass lands with a ginger like you. I don't want to talk ‘bout her. About any of it. So, shut up. It's _my_ fucking business."

"Maybe she can make him nicer," Tormund said, and Clegane nearly looked at him like a septa eyeing an unruly lady.

Thoros replied, "I think we have better luck with these lands turning green."

Finally, they all shut up for an hour or so, giving him peace. Although the lands made it hard, the snow crunching underfoot, which was sometimes just chunks of ice. The scenery, if he weren't so damned cold, might have been lovely. The rays were golden, and the reflection on the snow was black and blue. 

He tried to keep Lana from his mind, but that was nearly impossible. He kept remembering the softness of her thighs, how wet he had made her, and how much she had wanted him. Gods he had never wanted to fuck a woman so much in his life. 

And even though he couldn’t stop thinking about how tight she had been, and how he wanted to be the one to take her, it was the way she didn't want him to leave got him the most. Where most women grew tired of his insolence, Lana seemed to give two shits about it, and it was in that that he found his heart aching for her.

He nearly went to finish the job that night, be he remembered her maidenhead. It wouldn't be right to take that before he left. Whatever lord she married would want it, and Sandor didn't want to hurt any potential she had of moving on. He knew that lot far better than she did, and those lords obsessed over virginity like a drunk over wine. 

Sometimes, he hated that he cared. He wanted to fuck her bloody, and then fuck her again. But no, he had to go about with caring and shit. 

Perhaps it was for the best Varys interrupted them, reminding Clegane that chasing after Lana would be nothing but misery for him in the end.

"So, what is a crow doing with a raven?" Tormund asked Jon, and Clegane eyed the little black bird on Jon’s shoulder. "And why's it got three eyes?"

"It's my brother's raven. If we need it, we will send it to Dany for her dragons,” Jon Snow said, his black curls striking against the white landscape.

"Why didn't she just come with us? Would have saved a lot of time," Tormund said. 

"She's got a war to fight. If she comes here, it will only be because we need her."

"Why not just send it anyway? I'd like to ride a dragon back to the wall."

"We can't demand dragon rides for comfort. Not when she is so far south and is relying on me to do this alone. She is only our last resort.”

Tormund turned back to Clegane. "Maybe your lady could fly with her," he said, smiling that cheesy fucking grin.

"They better not. She has no business in these lands," Clegane warned. 

"These lands are my _home_ ," Tormund said with slight offense.

"Lana is a dragon, not a bloody polar bear," Clegane retorted, and somehow, the mad fucker just ended up laughing, and nodding with approval.

"I have got some stories about bears,” Tormund said.

Clegane sighed, just not fucking winning with this one. "Bet you do."

"You want to hear any?"

"I may just have to rip your tongue out if you do."

Tormund recoiled and shook his head. "I'll fight you for it. It's very useful for with the women."

Clegane couldn't hold back and laughed. "Coming from the man that likes dick."

Tormund laughed, and his eyes showed great approval for Clegane. 

Seriously, what the fuck was with the end of the world and Sandor suddenly making friends in every corner? Why did people like him now? Or did all the average, honorable men die, and all that was left were the mad fuckers?

The day quickly grew dark, and before they knew it, the temperature completely dropped. The moon and stars gave light, reflecting on the snow while even their bones couldn’t stay warm. 

They sat close together, and of course, Tormund sat next to Clegane.

As he shivered, from time to time, and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep with his beard keeping his face warm, he thought of Lana. 

He hoped she was safe, and that if he didn't make it out of this, she'd find someone that would make her happy. On most days, he wanted her more than he wanted to kill Gregor. But he knew it was something that would lead to nothing, and indulging would only make it so much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone that commented last chapter. I'm serious when I say that coming back to read your kind words was the motivation I needed to get back into the story!


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